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Gift  of  SEYMOUR  B.  Durst  Old  York  Library 


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in  2013 


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THIRTY  YEARS' 

BATTLE   WITH  CRIME, 

OR  THE 

CRYING  SHAME  OF  NEW  YORK, 

AS  SEEN  UNDER  THE 

BROAD  GLARE  OF  AN  OLD  DETECTIVE'S  LANTERN. 

BY 

JOHN  H.  WARREN,  Jr. 


P0U3HKEEP3IE,  K.  Y. 
PUBLISHED   BY   A.   J.  WHITE. 
1874. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874, 
By  A.  J.  White, 
In  the  Otlice  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  'Washington,  D.  C. 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  was  Lord  Bacon  who  once  complained  that  the 
physicians  of  his  day  showed  no  desire  to  solve  the  problem 
of  the  prolongation  of  human  life.  Were  the  great  philo- 
sopher and  jurist  with  us  to-day,  he  would  find  the  prob- 
lem still  unsolved,  though  far  more  likely  to  reach  its 
solution  than  it  seemed  three  centuries  ago.  However  great 
have  been  the  advances  made  in  the  science  of  living  since 
the  "Novum  Organum"  made  its  appearance,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  such  advance  has  been  due  as  much  to  a 
general  desire  on  the  part  of  the  intelligent  masses  every- 
where for  light  in  this  direction,  as  to  any  specific  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  medical  fraternity.  In  this,  as  in  other 
matters  looking  to  an  improved  physical  condition  of  the 
race,  the  people  have  been  eager  to  scrutinize  every  fresh 
attempt  to  improve  our  methods  of  living,  without  stop- 
ping to  inquire  whether  such  attempt  was  scientific  or 
empirical. 

Increased  facilities  for  a  higher  and  more  cultivated  mode 
of  life  than  that  possessed  by  our  ancestors,  have  proved  a 
healthy  stimulus  to  the  efforts  that  have  been  made  to  sup- 
ply it,  so  that  the  great  question  of  the  hour  is,  what  will 
best  secure  the  maximum  of  living  at  the  minimum  of  cost 
to  the  liver.  In  this,  too,  as  in  other  matters  essential  to 
an  efficient  civil  system,  the  present  century  has  not  been 
as  prolific  as  its  intense  activity  should  have  made  it.  Un- 
limited resources  have  hitherto  made  money-getting  so 
easy,  that  our  spending  has  been  even  disproportionately 
lavish  and  generous.  In  the  general  depression  which 
followed  closely  upon  the  panic,  and  which  still  continues, 
the  people  have  had  time  to  take  the  second  sober  thought. 


iv 


Introduction, 


Economic  questions  of  the  gravest  and  most  vital  char- 
acter, looking  to  improved  methods  of  taxation  and  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  public  burdens,  have  been  pushed  aside  as 
avc  rushed  headlong  in  the  midst  of  our  abundance,  that 
seem  likely  just  now  to  receive  the  attention  they  should 
justly  have  had  long  ago. 

It  is  a  rule  in  military  matters  that  the  success  and  effi- 
ciency  of  an  army,  depends  not  more  upon  its  discipline 
and  drill,  than  upon  knowing  properly  how  to  feed,  move, 
and  care  for  it.  Possessing  all  these,  it  becomes  as  nearly 
invincible  as  human  skill  can  make  it.  "We  are  just  being 
taught  by  that  best  of  all  teachers,  experience,  that  to  gov- 
ern a  great  city  with  strict  justice  to  all  classes,  and  with 
true  economy,  calls  for  the  same  high  qualities,  the  same 
scrupulous  fidelity  to  well-ascertained  and  correct  methods, 
to  produce  a  like  efficiency. 

With  all  our  modern  facilities  for  transportation  and  the 
distribution  of  population,  the  great  cities  of  the  country 
are  still  overburdened  with  the  care  of  the  unthrifty,  the 
criminal,  and  the  worthless.  AVith  emigration  for  a  feeder, 
ours  has  been  packed  to  repletion  with  such  a  human  ad- 
mixture of  nationalities  as  was  never  witnessed  before.  As 
if  to  revenge  themselves  upon  a  nation  blessed  with  unusual 
native  resources,  the  pauper  populations  of  Europe,  along 
with  millions  that  have  proved  self-sustaining,  have  poured 
in  upon  us  to  share  with  us  the  luxuries  for  which  they 
pined,  but  were  too  indolent  to  produce  with  the  work  of 
their  own  idle  hands.  To-day  we  have  them  as  our  herit- 
age, packed  away  like  so  many  cattle  in  our  basements  and 
garrets  and  tenement  houses,  an  idle,  filthy,  debased  mass, 
spawned  on  a  foreign  soil.  To  bestow  and  care  for  these 
in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  a  wise  humanity,  is  the 
great  municipal  question  of  the  hour,  and  one  that  we  must 
begin  soon  to  discuss  with  something  like  common  sense  if 
we  would  not  be  swamped  altogether  under  a  hideous  load 
of  pauper  taxation.   This,  together  with  our  boulevard  taxes 


Introduction. 


v 


present  a  tax  problem  that  is  appalling.  To  put  off  longer 
the  evil  day  that  surely  awaits  us  if  we  fail  to  move,  and  at 
once,  in  the  matter,  is  to  commit  municipal  suicide. 

A  single  fact  tells  the  story  of  our  present  pauper-ridden 
condition.  From  1847  to  1868,  a  period  of  twenty  years, 
over  four  millions  of  aliens  landed  at  the  port  of  New  York. 
While  a  large  portion  of  this  foreign  influx  has  been  scat- 
tered by  our  60,000  miles  of  railroad  over  the  West,  the 
balance  of  it,  and  by  far  the  most  unthrifty  portion,  bur- 
rows on  our  island  and  its  immediate  neighborhood.  As  a 
natural  outgrowth  of  this  chaos  of  human  refuse,  we  con- 
front at  this  moment  a  mass  of  pauperism  and  crime  exhib- 
ited by  no  city  of  its  size  on  the  habitable  globe.  It  is  no 
marvel,  therefore,  that  every  species  of  vice  and  crime 
known  to  humanity  should  take  root  on  our  soil  and  flour- 
ish in  spite  of  the  most  vigilant  and  painstaking  efforts  to 
prevent  it.  We  have  now  reached  the  point  at  which  pub- 
lic indifference  must  cease,  and  something  be  done  to  rid 
ourselves,  as  far  as  may  be,  of  this  incubus  of  evil. 

When,  a  few  years  ago,  the  most  corrupt  municipal  cabal 
that  the  world  has  ever  known,  came  into  power  in  this 
city,  it  found  the  pliant  and  willing  elements  of  its  strength 
glaring  at  us  from  20,000  tenement  houses  and  basements. 
A  single  3^ear  sufficed  to  mould  this  mass  into  subservience 
through  the  ballot  box,  so  that  for  years  afterwards  the 
people  lay  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  this  foreign  foe  to  all  gov- 
ernment. Elated  with  its  success,  the  "  Ring "  carried 
matters  with  a  hand  so  high  that  the  contest  ceased  to  be 
political,  but  became  one  between  the  scoundrels  of  the 
cabal  and  the  respectable  elements  of  the  city.  The  fight 
waxed  warmer  and  warmer,  until  at  last  misrule  and  thiev- 
ery succumbed,  and  a  government  decent,  at  least,  in  its 
animus,  came  in  its  stead. 

WTe  are  now  more  than  a  century  old,  and  have  a  popu- 
lation of  nearly  one  million  of  souls.  We  have  behind  us 
all  that  we  could  wish  in  the  way  of  a  rich  and  varied  ex- 


Introduction, 


p  rii  nee.  There  has  never  been  a  period  in  our  career 
when  we  wore  better  fitted  to  pause  for  a  moment  to  look 
over  the  field  of  the  past,  and  to  try  to  come  to  some  sen- 
sible conclusions  as  to  the  best  possible  methods  to  be  em- 
ployed  to  make  ns  what  we  are  destined  to  be,  and  shall 
be,  if  we  profit  by  the  lessons  of  the  past,  the  leading  city 
in  the  world  in  wealth,  culture,  and  all  that  goes  to  make 
up  a  well-ordered,  thrifty  community. 

The  pages  that  follow  this  introduction  have  been  writ- 
ten for  the  single  purpose  of  sketching,  with  a  broad  and 
truthful  hand,  certain  grades  of  offences  with  which  our  city 
is  cursed.  The  aim  of  the  author  has  been  not  so  much  to 
\>v<  '  luce  an  array  of  startling  statistics,  as  to  portray  specific 
grades  of  crime  and  criminals,  social  and  civil.  With  these 
plac  d  fully  before  us,  supplemented  by  such  plans  for  its 
eradication  or  mitigation,  as  the  pictures  themselves  sug- 
gest, such  an  outlook  upon  crime  may  be  indulged  as  will 
show  how  great  is  the  necessity  for  an  immediate  and  effi- 
cient attempt  to  throttle  it.  In  a  crusade  of  this  sort,  it  is 
the  eye  and  heart  that  need  first  to  be  informed.  The  fig- 
ures requisite  for  accurate  and  specific  information,  while 
attainable  in  some  cases,  are  in  others  impossible  of  attain- 
ment, so  that  what  is  most  important  in  such  an  outlook  is 
that  a  complete  survey  of  the  field  shall  be  made. 

To  accomplish  this,  and  at  the  same  time  to  keep  sepa- 
rate and  distinct  each  department  of  crime  gone  over,  the 
work  has  been  divided  into  chapters,  each  of  wrhich  forms  a 
separate  view  in  itself.  To  the  "Social  Evil"  we  have 
given  special  prominence,  because  it  is  a  question  that 
touches  the  very  marrow  of  our  social  and  religious  life,  a 
question  more  than  vital  to  us  in  view  of  the  fearful  in- 
crease of  every  phase  of  it  made  during  the  war  of  the  re- 
bellion, and  for  the  additional  reason  that  in  the  interven- 
ing years  little  or  nothing  has  been  done  to  check  its  rav- 
ages, so  that  to-day,  here,  in  this  great  city,  virtue,  which 
should  be  the  rule,  has  become  almost  the  exception.  The 


Introduction. 


vii 


truth  is  an  unpleasant  one  to  face,  but  to  shut  our 
eyes  upon  it  now,  would  be  nothing  short  of  criminal  neg- 
ligence. 

"We  have  photographed,  so  to  speak,  in  a  series  of  sketches, 
Prostitution  as  it  lives  and  flourishes  between  Murray  Hill 
and  Water  street.  The  pictures  have  been  taken  from 
original  scenes,  and  are  neither  caricatures,  nor  exaggera- 
tions of  the  hideous  reality.  The  originals  of  these  sketches 
may  be  witnessed  every  night  in  this  city  in  thousands 
of  temples  erected  to  Lust.  It  is  because  we  habitu- 
ally shut  our  eyes,  and  refuse  to  believe  in  the  full  extent  of 
this  social  cancer,  that  we  have  transferred  its  painted  faces 
to  these  pages,  in  the  hope  that  something  may  be  done  to 
check  and  regulate  it  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  a 
truer  humanity.  While  we  have  no  hope  that  any  impossi- 
ble purity  will  be  arrived  at  in  any  attempt  to  mitigate  the 
horrors  of  lewdness,  there  are  many  collateral  branches  of 
this  evil  that  are  susceptible  of  immediate  eradication,  and 
the  fact  that  they  are  permitted  to  fester  untouched,  is  a 
burning  and  standing  disgrace  to  our  city  and  its  government. 

The  chapters  on  "  Circular  Swindlers,"  and  "  Gambling 
Hells,"  each  make  their  own  record  in  an  honest  attempt 
to  show  the  full  extent  of  the  evils  and  misery  they  create. 
The  latter  alone  presents  a  picture  so  startling,  that  it  is 
believed  the  only  means  left  of  rousing  public  attention  to 
the  pressing  need  of  more  stringent  laws  and  a  greater  de- 
sire to  enforce  them  than  has  hitherto  been  shown. 

The  chapters  on  "  Beggars "  show  the  extremes  to  which 
benevolence  and  sympathy  go  in  the  full  belief  that  their 
alms  are  well  bestowed,  when  the  facts  being  looked  into, 
show  that  nearly  every  dollar  tossed  into  the  tills  of  the 
street  mendicants  of  this  city,  goes  to  swell  the  savings  of 
these  long-visaged  frauds  instead,  as  is  supposed,  of  reliev- 
ing their  necessities.  We  have  hitherto  seen  so  little  of  real 
suffering  from  positive  want,  that  the  mere  simulation  of  it 
by  our  street  professionals  is  still  all  that  is  needed  to  com- 


viii 


Introduction, 


mand  our  purses  and  our  tears  at  the  same  moment.  As 
uc  l'imnv  oiler  wo  shall  know  these  creatures  better,  and  in- 
stead of  taking  care  of  them  drive  them  from  the  streets 
into  tin  pursuit  of  an  honest  living.  We  have  striven  to 
show  thai  there  is  enough  of  real  poverty  all  around  us, 
that  deserves,  though  it  seldom  gets  either  our  sympathy 
or  our  help,  and  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  makes  no 
street  or  other  parade  of  its  gaunt  visage,  but  waits  in 
silence  to  be  sought  out.  We  shall  learn  in  time,  what  Eu- 
rope learned  long  ago,  that  intelligence  and  system  is 
!i«  eded  as  much  in  the  care  of  our  criminals  and  paupers, 
as  in  any  other  department  of  civil  or  social  administration, 
and  that  the  all-important  question  is  to  know  how  to 
make  both,  as  nearly  as  possible,  self-sustaining.  What  we 
need  most  just  now  is,  to  diminish  by  a  wise  and  prudent 
management  of  our  pauper  and  criminal  population, 
burdens  which,  though  useless,  have  been  borne  by  reason 
of  our  great  abundance,  without  murmur  or  complaint.  It 
is  encouraging  to  know,  that,  as  a  people,  old  age  brings 
thriftier  habits,  and  that.there  is  a  rapidly  growing  interest 
among  us  in  whatever  relates  to  improved  methods  of  pub- 
lic administration  in  all  directions. 

The  gamins  of  our  city,  those  little  waifs  that  meet  us  at 
every  turn,  stray  bits  of  sunshine  dressed  in  rags,  and 
always  on  the  alert  for  a  stray  penny,  have  assigned  them 
a  chapter  by  themselves,  and  we  are  proud  to  say  that  no 
portion  of  our  task  was  wrought  with  a  deeper  or  tenderer 
interest,  than  that  which  tells  the  simple  story  of  these 
cin  Id -waifs  that  come  tumbling  in  upon  us  from  the  great, 
and  almost  unexplored  sea  of  poverty  that  surrounds  us. 
Bora  with  neither  the  "  silver  "  nor  any  other  "  spoon  "  ill 
their  mouths,  their  sole  inheritance  the  poverty  they  wear 
so  jauntily,  they  caper  about  us,  day  after  day,  as  happy  as 
if  "  born  to  good  luck."  We  have  watched  them  at  their 
play,  have  seen  them  curled  up  on  their  mats  of  straw  or 
rags,  have  followed  them  in  their  haunts,  noted  their  indus- 


Introduction. 


ix 


try,  seen  them,  in  short,  in  every  role  they  assume,  and  the 
shapes  of  our  gamin  are  protean,  and  always  witb  increased 
sympathy  and  admiration.  Of  all  our  characters,  none  is 
more  truly  American  than  the  gamin.  He  contains  in  him- 
self, as  a  germ,  the  courageous,  independent  manhood  that 
seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  inheritance  of  children  born  and 
reared  under  a  republican  system. 

Food  adulteration,  a  subject  of  vital  interest  to  all  alike^ 
holds  a  prominent  place  in  the  following  chapters.  The 
patience  with  which  Americans  submit  to  swindles  and 
petty  annoyances  of  every  sort,  is  proverbial,  insomuch  that 
when  they  go  abroad  even,  their  reputation  for  being  joro- 
fuse  "  bleeders  '*'  precedes  them,  and  renders  them  constantly 
liable  to  the  grossest  impositions.  To  none  of  these,  at 
home,  do  they  submit  more  quietly  than  that  which  bedevils 
the  food  they  eat,  and  the  stuff  called  wines  which  they  im- 
bibe. For  a  century  we  have  guzzled  the  one  and  swal- 
lowed the  other,  "  asking  no  questions  for  conscience-sake," 
secretly  hoping  relief  might  come  at  some  time,  but  never 
taking  the  trouble  to  ask  for  it.  The  truth  is,  we  have 
been  too  busy  to  look  after  the  quality  of  our  food  or  the 
manner  of  its  preparation  for  the  table.  "We  have  a  little 
leisure  now,  and  the  kitchen,  together  with  some  other  do- 
mestic matters,  seems  likely  to  claim  in  the  future  a  modi- 
cum of  our  attention,  and  in  that  of  food-poisoning,  it  can- 
not come  a  whit  too  soon. 

The  general  charge  of  food  adulteration  is  an  old  one, 
but  few  have  troubled  themselves  to  ascertain  its  real  ex- 
tent in  this  country,  under  the  supposition  that  where  such 
an  abundance  of  the  raw  food  materials  was  always  at  hand, 
there  could  be  no  good  reason  for  the  practice  of  so  mean  a 
crime  as  that  of  ruining  our  digestion.  It  was  thought, 
and  with  truth,  that  a  trying  climate  had  done  quite  enough 
for  us  in  this  direction,  without  any  help  from  the  men  who 
help  us  to  our  daily  rations.  Unhappily  we  have  been  de- 
ceived, and  an  examination  into  the  facts  reveals  a  state  of 


X 


Introduction, 


things  almost  impossible  of  belief.  The  facts  we  have  com- 
pile!, with  some  care,  have  been  gathered  from  the  most 
reliable  sources,  and  arc  worthy  the  attention  of  all  who 
appreciate  the  part  that  good  or  bad  food  plays  in  our  do- 
lnest ic  <v. >n< >my. 

Our  own  city  is  an  anomaly  among  the  cities  of  the 
world,  a  fact  that  we  have  labored  earnestly  to  show,  not 
bj  way  of  apology,  but  to  explain  phenomena  otherwise  un- 
explainable.  We  have  been  building  in  a  century,  what 
Europe  has  taken  many  centuries  to  accomplish,  and  it 
could  not  be  expected  that,  in  a  period  so  brief,  close  me- 
thods, which  are  the  results  of  experience  and  of  closely 
packed  populations,  would  be  conspicuous  in  our  modes  of 
municipal  government.  That  much  of  our  work  has  been 
ill  done,  is  because  it  has  been  hurriedly  done,  done  by 
halves,  at  odd  intervals  in  our  onward  march  to  wealth  and 
fame.  We  have  time  now  to  live  a  little  more  in  the  past 
though  with  strict  regard  to  the  future,  and  the  indications 
are  that  we  shall  so  live  that  a  wholesome  and  thorough 
overhauling  of  old  and  defective  methods  of  living  and  gov- 
erning, will  be  exchanged  for  closer  and  more  accurate  me- 
thods in  all  needed  directions. 

Broadway  is  described  in  the  closing  chapter,  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  stranger  passing  through  it  for  the  first 
time,  rather  than  from  that  of  the  busy  New  Yorker,  who 
sees  it  every  day  without  in  fact  seeing  it  at  all,  as  he  glides 
down  its  current  of  a  morning  wrapt  in  the  solitude  of  his 
own  musings,  but  as  innocent  of  its  eddies  and  counter- 
currents,  as  though  he  were  traversing  the  solitude  of  a 
primeval  forest.  We  have  barely  touched  it  historically, 
though  the  vein  that  led  in  that  direction  was  a  tempting 
one.  Our  object  was  to  picture  it  to  the  eye  of  the  occa- 
sional visitor,  to  catch  its  shifting  scenes,  its  ever-varying 
moods,  to  make  in  short,  a  series  of  views  from  which,  as  a 
whole,  Broadway  could  be  seen  at  a  distance  to  be  what  it 
really  is,  the  most  splendid  business  street  in  the  world. 


Introduction. 


xi 


How  far  we  have  succeeded  in  our  aim  will  be  determined 
by  the  reader  himself. 

A  final  word,  in  addition  to  what  we  have  already  said  of 
the  chapter  on  Prostitution,  and  we  have  done.  Prostitu- 
tion with  us  has  been  treated  hitherto  as  an  evil  that  could 
not  be  touched.  To  mention  it  even,  was  of  itself  sufficient 
to  call  forth  rebuke  ;  to  meddle  with  it  was  utterly  impossi- 
ble. Here  prudery  and  false  modesty  had  entrenched  them- 
selves. Prudery  will  read  what  we  have  written,  but  will 
censure  us  in  the  same  breath  for  uncovering  a  crime  so 
hideous.  We  have  taken  our  sketches  of  it  in  its  own 
haunts,  and  from  every  grade,  and  for  the  following  reasons. 
We  believe  the  Social  Evil  to  be  one  susceptible  of  regulation 
in  such  a  way  that  at  least  one-half  of  its  horrors  may  be 
mitigated  by  such  regulation.  Many  others,  who  have 
given  the  subject  special  attention,  are  of  the  same  opinion. 
The  work  to  be  done  cannot  be  accomplished  at  arms- 
length,  and  without  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  dis- 
ease itself,  for  such  it  really  is,  it  must  be  seen  and  under- 
stood, and  when  made  the  subject  of  discipline  and  of  rem- 
edies, as  it  has  been  made  in  Paris  and  other  cities  of 
Europe,  will  elicit  here  the  careful,  considerate  attention 
from  the  benevolent  and  the  philanthropist,  that  it  deserves, 
and  which  it  is  destined  to  have.  There  is  no  valid  reason 
why  this  moral  canker  should  be  left  to  eat  its  way  into  our 
homes  without  a  bold  and  determined  effort  to  stay  its  rav- 
ages, and  to  know  what  is  needful  to  do,  we  must  under- 
stand well  the  evil  to  be  overcome.  To  this  end,  and  this 
alone,  wre  have  outlined  its  varied  features,  but  in  doing  it, 
we  have  written  no  word  that  cannot  be  read  aloud  in  any 
circle,  and  in  sketching  it  we  have  not  spared  those,  who, 
professing  a  great  deal  of  horror  and  squeamishness  when 
the  Social  Evil  is  a  subject  of  discussion,  contribute  never- 
theless in  many  indirect  ways,  and  we  may  add,  direct  as 
well,  to  its  maintenance  and  support. 

J.  H.  W.,  Je. 


ONTENTS. 


Page 

Introduction   3 

PART  FIRST,— Prostitution. 

CHAPTER  T. — From  Fifth  Avenue  to  Water  Street   13 

"        II.  —  Death  of  a  well-known  Journalist  in  a  house  of 

Ill-Fame   16 

"       III. — Prostitution,  its  Influence,  Character  of  the  Men 

who  sustain  it    26 

"       IV. — Prostitution  a  Social  Crime — What  shall  be  done 

with  it  ?   37 

u        V. — Houses  of  Prostitution,  and  those  who  own  them..  47 

*'       VI. — Houses  of  Assignation — Who  Patronize  them  ?..  .  50 

"      VII. — The  Argument  of  the  Prostitute   55 

"    VIII. — How  Prostitution  Secures  its  Victims   61 

*'       IX. — Another  Victim   64 

"        X. — Other  Causes  of  Prostitution — Closely-packed  Popu- 
lations— New  England's  Contribution   74 

"       XI.  —  St  arc  hing  for  a  Daughter — The  Photograph   81 

"     XII. — Tin:  Road  to  Ruin -From  Fifth  Avenue  to  Water 

Street-  "  High-toned  "  Houses   100 

"    XIII. — Parlor  Houses — Negro  Houses   109 

11    XIV. — The  Concert  Saloons   117 

"      XV. — The  Dance  Houses   121 

«    XVI.—  Masked  Pall..   125 

"    XVII. — The  Future  of  Prostitution — Regulation  and  Other 
Theories — Dr.  Chapin  and  the  "  Westminster 

Review  "   133 

11  X\  III. — Private  Lying-in  Hospitals   150 

14     XIX. — "  Baby  Fanning" — Wholesale  "  Slaughter  of  the 

Innocents"   164 


PART  SECOND. 

CHAP  TER  I. — Beggars  and  Paupers   177 

"       II. — A  Pauper's  Death-bed   188 

III.  —  Professional  Beggars   198 

"       IV. — Child  Vagabonds   215 

"         V. — The  Gamins  of  New  York   243 

"       VI. — Food  Poisoners   257 

"     VII. — Gambling  "  Hells  *'  of  New  York   280 

"    VIII. — The  Circular  Swindle   319 

"       I\. — A  Ride  on  Broadway   3150 

"       X. — A  Few  Facts   394 


JR^IFIT  FIRST. 


PROSTITUTION  IN  NEW  YORK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FROM    FIFTH   AVENUE   TO  WATER  STREET. 

We  are  a  nation  of  forty  millions  of  people.  In 
reaching  the  standpoint  of  to-day,  we  have  met  with 
so  few  of  the  impediments  to  civilization  incident  to 
more  closely  packed  populations,  that  we  have  taken 
no  thought  in  our  onward  march  of  our  own  achieve- 
ments. We  have  lived  history,  but  we  have  not  yet 
found  time  to  record  it. 

A  century  of  rich  and  varied  experience  lies  behind 
us,  and  one  which  has  been  especially  prolific  in 
startling  social  phenomena,  and  the  facts  that  properly 
range  themselves  under  the  head  of  Social  Science ; 
and  yet,  it  is  an  admitted  truth,  that  no  nation  pos- 
sessing so  many  opportunities  for  healthy  growth  in 
all  directions  as  this,  has  furnished,  in  the  way  of  well- 
arranged  social  statistics,  so  little  that  is  worth  preserv- 
ing. While  municipal  Europe  has  been  for  centuries 
busy  in  reducing  to  a  science  the  methods  that  shall 
teach  her  how  to  take  care  of  her  criminal  and  pauper 
population  in  such  a  way  that  the  ends  of  economy, 


Prostitution  in  UTtW  York. 


justice,  and  the  public  weal  shall  be  best  subserved, 
we  have  kept  these  social  problems  in  the  back- 
ground, in  the  vain  hope  that  time  and  abundant 
resources  would  solve  them  to  our  satisfaction. 

Prostitution,  a  crime  against  society  and  the  state 
as  well,  and  in  its  hideousness,  a  bugbear  with  us 
Americans,  bares  its  brazen  front  in  all  our  great  cities. 
In  this,  it  may  be  said  with  exact  truth,  that  directly, 
or  in  its  effects,  it  penetrates  all  circles  without  distinc- 
tion,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Confined  no 
longer,  as  it  once  was  in  this  city,  within  certain  well 
defined  limits,  it  has  been  borne  along  northward  on 
the  ever-swelling  tide  of  our  shifting  population,  until 
no  locality  is  k  it  untouched  by  its  envenomed  breath. 
It  wears  a  more  decent  appearance  on  Murray  Hill 
and  the  fashionable  up-town  avenues,  but  it  is,  never- 
theless, entrenched  even  there,  and  gathers  to  itself 
yearly  in  its  unchecked  march  the  very  flower  of  our 
youth.  Did  its  ravages  cease  with  these,  there  would 
be  still  some  hope  of  a  speedy  mitigation  of  the  evil, 
but  it  is  a  moral  maelstrom,  that  buries  in  its  polluted 
depths  middle  and  old  age  itself,  and  too  often  the  best 
brain  and  heart  of  the  nation. 

Hitherto,  and  for  obvious  reasons,  the  crime  of  pros- 
titution has  been  ranked  among  those  that  we  could 
not  t<»uch  without  personal  defilement.  While  the  sin 
of  drunkenness  has  called  out  in  behalf  of  the  inebriate 
the  active  sympathy  of  the  Christian  and  the  philan- 
thropist, we  have  almost  totally  ignored  prostitution 
as  an  inward  ulcer  upon  the  body  social,  and  the  body 
politic,  that  no  probe  could  reach. 

Lifting  up  our  hands  in  a  fervor  of  pious  indigna- 
tion, we  of  New  York,  have  been  content  to  shut  it  up 
in  the  slums,  build  a  wall  about  it,  and  then  pray  that 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


15 


the  evil  might  cease  from  among  us  altogether. 
Thanking  God  that  we  were  not  as  these  vile  creatures 
were,  who  sell  their  bodies  first,  and  finally  their 
souls,  for  money,  we  retired  to  our  virtuous  couches  at 
night  with  a  feeling,  that  if  we  had  not  exhausted 
active  efforts  in  behalf  of  the  fallen,  it  was  because  the 
case  admitted  of  nothing  in  the  way  of  a  practical, 
earnest  effort  to  check  it. 

All  at  once,  as  if  by  the  magic  wand  of  the  sorcerer, 
we  find  the  barriers  we  had  set  up  against  this 
evil,  that  seemed  to  us  an  anomalous  one,  broken 
down,  and  the  curse  itself  intrenched  in  broWn  stone 
fronts,  under  the  very  shadows  of  the  spires  of  our 
tallest  church  steeples,  and  under  the  very  eaves  of 
our  palatial  homes.  The  plague  has  come  to  our  doors, 
and,  horror-stricken  and  conscience-stricken  as  well, 
we  find  that  many  of  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to 
ns,  have  not  escaped  its  polluting  and  withering  touch. 

Having  now  attacked  us  in  our  most  vulnerable  and 
sensitive  point,  our  own  homes,  we  have  wisely  con- 
cluded to  face  the  evil.  Indeed,  it  would  seem,  that 
it  is  impossible  longer  to  turn  our  backs  npon  it.  At 
all  events,  we  begin  to  see  that  we  cannot,  if  we  would 
not  be  guilty  of  moral  cowardice,  refuse  to  join  in  any 
rational  movement  for  curtailing  its  baneful  effects, 
first  by  relieving  it  of  its  more  bestial  features,  and 
then  doing  what  we  can  to  win  back  to  a  better  life 
those  women  who  are  now  without  the  pale  of  all  that 
is  decent  and  womanly. 

To  present  a  faithful  picture  of  this  one  phase  of 
crime  in  our  city,  is  the  object  of  the  following 
chapter,  and  we  cannot  better  introduce  it,  than  by 
reference  to  an  incident  which,  at  the  time  of  its  occur- 
rence, formed  the  subject  of  much  scandal  and  gossip. 


9 


CHAPTER  II. 

DEATH  OF  A  WELL-KNOWN   POLITICIAN    IN  A  IIOUSE  OF 
ILL-FAME. 

One  evening  in  the  month  of  March,  1S6-,  I  re- 
ceived a  message  at  my  rooms  in  Bleecker  street,  at 
midnight,  from  a  woman  well  known  to  fashionable 
male  New  Yorkers  at  that  time,  to  come  at  once  to 
her  residence  on  Murray  Hill,  near  Fifth  Avenue. 
A  single  glance  at  the  bearer  of  the  message,  a  Mulatto 
boy  of  sixteen,  told  me  that  something  unusual  had 
occurred  to  disturb  the  temper  of  u  Madame,"  his 
mistress. 

Though  I  had  never  visited  the  house  in  its  up-town 
quarters,  I  had  known  it  in  another  part  of  the  city 
under  its  present  keeper,  and  knew  it  to  be  a  notorious, 
but  decidedly  aristocratic  haunt,  if  that  much-abused 
term  may  be  applied,  as  we  think  it  can,  to  such  a 
resort.  Thinking  that  a  murder  or  suicide  had  inter- 
posed to  mar  the  usually  lively  routine  of  a  palace 
dedicated  to  enjoyment,  I  hastened  to  the  spot,  and 
on  arriving,  was  met  by  Madame  herself.  Her  man- 
ner was  cordial,  but  her  once-impudent  stare  now 
gave  way  to  a  look  so  dejected,  that  for  the  moment  ] 
pitied  her. 

To  describe  her  dress  as  it  dawned  upon  me  in  all 
its  splendor,  would  exhaust  the  vocabulary  of  a 
Parisian  shopkeeper,  or  the  parrot-tongue  of  a  Broad- 
way man-milliner.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  she 
was,  in  the  language  of  the  pictorials,  magnificently 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


17 


illustrated.  She  was  literally  ablaze  with  diamonds, 
and  enveloped  in  lace  and  satin.  Solomon,  in  all  his 
glory,  it  is  safe  to  say,  was  cheaply  and  thinly  clad, 
compared  with  this  painted  and  bedizened  creature, 
and  as  for  the  "  lilies  of  the  field,"  they,  poor  things, 
were  nowhere  to  be  compared  to  this  brazen  beauty. 
And  yet,  to  the  credit  of  her  once  better  self  be  it  said, 
she  still  retained  in  her  face  and  manner  the  evidence 
that  she  had  been  born  and  bred  to  grace  a  different 
sphere  from  that  in  which  she  now  moved  a  modern 
Cleopatra,  surrounded  by  the  Marc  Antonys  and 
Lotharios  that  nightly  graced  her  gorgeous  apart- 
ments. Despite  the  ravages  which  dissipation  had 
made,  her  figure  was  still  a  model  in  its  voluptuous 
fullness,  and  there  still  clung  to  it,  as  if  in  mockery,  a 
touch  of  native  dignity,  with  something  of  womanly 
grace. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  the  excitement  which  ab- 
sorbed her  for  the  moment  worked  the  transformation. 
1  employed  the  brief  interval  during  which  she  was 
occupied  in  a  hurried  conversation  with  a  servant,  in 
a  survey  of  the  wonders  that  spread  themselves  before 
my  astonished  eyes.  A  single  glance  induced  the 
belief  that  the  accumulated  splendor  of  the  Orient  and 
the  harem  had  been  transferred,  as  if  by  magic,  to  this 
perfect  western  imitation.  Rosy  arabesques  gleamed 
on  the  walls  above  me.  A  superb  bust  of  Cleopatra  in 
marble  occupied  a  pedestal  of  the  same  material.  A 
head  of  Milton — what  an  odd  place  for  the  old  re- 
former— forming  one  of  a  group,  adorned  the  walls. 
A  niche  in  the  wall  contained  a  statue  of  Minerva,  a 
real  gem  in  itself.  Bronzes  were  scattered  about 
with  a  wealth  of  display  that  seemed  ill  suited  to 
such  a  place.     From  the  windows  of  the  principal 


13 


Prostitution  in  lSTew  York. 


drawing  room,  or  saloon,  and  in  which  the  houris  of 
this  passion's  paradise  held  their  nightly  receptions  in 
imitation  of  their  high-toned  neighbors,  sipping  per- 
fumed wines  meantime  from  glasses  of  exquisite  tex- 
ture and  finish,  depended  curtains  of  the  richest 
damask  and  lace  sweeping  with  their  soft  folds  the 
floor  below. 

In  a  niche  in  the  hall  stood  a  full-sized  Diana  in 
marble,  and  on  a  pedestal  opposite  a  Chasseur  in 
bronze,  each  of  which  would  have  tempted  the  eye  of 
a  connoisseur.  Rare  exotics  sent  their  fragrance 
through  the  over  heated  and  languid  atmosphere. 
Exquisite  carvings  lent  an  antique  charm  to  uphol- 
stery, a  world  of  color  in  itself.  Carpets  from  Smyrna 
looms  covered  the  floors,  matched  by  hangings  from 
Damascus.  Antique  vases,  curiously  wrought,  added 
their  chaims  to  this  place  dedicated  to  lust.  On  its 
walls  hung  pictures  from  easels  that  had  never  catered 
to  the  lust  of  the  eye,  pictures,  from  the  pencils  of 
artists  that  the  world  has  delighted  to  honor.  Hogarth, 
Rembrandt,  Yan  Dyke  and  Reynolds,  side  by  side 
with  Alston  and  the  works  of  other  home  artists  of  a 
later  period,  while  over  all  was  shed  the  broad  glare 
from  crystal  chandeliers,  a  "  dazzling  mass  of  artificial 
light."  An  aviary  of  gilded  wire,  with  bronze  orna- 
ments, from  which  came  at  intervals  bursts  of  bewil- 
dering bird  music,  stood  in  a  recess.  A  little  aqua- 
rium, as  if  to  make  the  harmony  complete,  was  fed  by 
cool  drips  from  a  basin  of  marble.  Altogether  the 
picture  before  me,  and  as  I  recall  it  at  this  remove 
from  the  scene  itself,  was  one  of  marvelous  beauty, 
the  vividness  of  which  no  words  can  portray.  What 
seemed  strange,  not  one  of  the  frail  sisterhood  was 
6cen  in  any  of  the  saloons. 


Prostitution-  in  New  York. 


19 


A  silence  like  death,  broken  now  and  then  by  the 
twitter  of  birds,  reigned  supreme.  The  living  figures 
that  nightly  turned  all  this  beauty  into  caricature, 
were  absent,  I  was  sole  occupant.  A  scene  had  trans- 
pired in  the  very  room  in  which  I  sat,  that  checked  in 
a  moment  the  mirth  of  the  harlots  even,  as  each  ran 
terror-stricken  to  her  apartment.  At  a  moment  when 
gaiety  was  at  its  highest,  when  the  passionate  appeal 
flashed  from  eye  and  lip,  when  wine  and  lust  had 
transformed  the  woman  into  the  harlot,  the  "  grim 
messenger,"  death,  had  stalked  through  this  place  of 
enchantment,  and  laid  his  spectral  hand  upon  one 
whose  talents  and  tact  had  won  for  him  the  admiration 
of  a  nation  of  readers  !  Skilled  in  the  art  that  makes 
one  man  the  fascinated  creature  of  another,  caucuses 
and  conventions  yielded  as  by  magic  to  a  voice  and 
manner  that  on  every  trying  occasion  had  proved  suf- 
ficient to  quell  all  opposition. 

At  a  period  during  the  war,  when  passion  ruled  the 
hour,  and  hope  and  courage  had  given  way  to  fear 
and  the  weakness  that  is  born  of  it,  he  stood  chief 
among  those  who  had  faith  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
the  nation  over  all  its  enemies.  He  had  met  at  last, 
face  to  face,  the  enemy  that  no  eloquence  could  silence, 
no  tact  circumvent,  and  without  a  word  or  a  murmur, 
surrendered  at  his  dread  approach. 

But  I  anticipate  ;  a  tap  on  my  shoulder  dispelled  a 
reverie  that  had  taken  no  note  of  time,  a  dream,  which 
with  its  strange  mixture  of  incongruities,  had  roused 
curiosity  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  quitting  this  scene 
at  the  bidding  of  the  woman  who  had  invoked  it,  I 
followed  her  to  an  apartment  that  explained  the  deep 
eilence  that  reigned  about  me.  Madame  led  the  way 
to  it  herself.    A  dim  light  from  a  single  lamp  threw 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


its  flicker  over  a  room  to  which  art  had  again  con- 
tributed some  of  its  rarest  treasures.  Copies  of  the 
most  celebrated  statues  of  the  old  masters,  nude  and 
draped,  graced  pedestals  of  porphyry,  beautiful  in 
design,  and  elaborate  in  finish. 

A  Niobe  in  marble,  and  a  Venus,  the  latter  a  real 
gem,  occupied  a  recess.  On  the  frescoed  walls  hung 
pictures  suggestive  of  the  life  to  which  shame  and  lust 
abandon  themselves.  Nothing  indeed  had  been  omitted 
in  the  way  of  accessories  that  could  in  the  least  con- 
tribute to  kindle  into  a  consuming  flame  the  passions 
of  the  victims  that  crowded  nightly  this  gilded  haunt 
of  vice,  this  one  of  the  one  hundred  palaces  that, 
between  Union  Square  and  Central  Park,  throw  wide 
open  their  doors  to  the  married  and  single  voluptuaries 
of  virtuous  New  York.  How  many  occupying  the  high 
places  in  social,  professional,  and  business  life,  and  in 
not  a  few  instances,  even  in  the  church,  habitually 
leave  their  own  firesides  to  become  the  companions  of 
prostitutes,  in  the  vain  fancy  that  the  silken  canopy, 
the  luxurious  couch,  and  the  creature  that  pollutes  it, 
are  the  only  witnesses  of  their  perfidy  and  shame. 

A  richly-carved  divan,  covered  with  rose-colored 
satin,  blended  its  soft  tints  with  other  marvels  of  color 
and  richness.  Upon  all  this  array,  from  the  tiniest  bit 
of  bric-a-brac,  to  the  rarest  mosaics,  brought  together 
to  woo  the  senses  to  a  blissful,  but  brief  oblivion,  the 
hand  of  an  exquisite  taste  was  visible,  There  was  no 
incongruous  jumbling  together  of  vulgar  but  costly 
trash.  All  had  been  arranged  with  the  most  fastidious 
care,  so  that  the  millionaire  when  he  came,  or  the  man 
of  letters,  or  the  young  roue,  born  to  luxury  and  splen- 
did surroundings,  could  easily  imagine  himself  within 
the  sacred  precincts  of  his  own  elegant  home. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


21 


A  couch,  an  India  in  itself,  half  concealed  by  undu- 
lating folds  of  crimson  satin,  stood  in  a  recess.  On  it 
lay  the  dead  body  of  a  man,  at  that  period  well  known 
as  the  most  brilliant  journalist  and  writer  of  his  time, 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  if  not  in  the  world.  At 
the  clubs,  in  the  very  highest  social  circles,  at  Del- 
monico's,  everywhere  where  wealth,  wit  and  fashion 
congregated,  his  graceful  pen,  and  equally  graceful 
manners,  had  made  him  a  favorite  almost  without  a 
rival. 

His  face,  long  familiar  to  me  on  the  street,  the  plat- 
form, and  from  his  box  at  the  opera,  now  wore  an  ex- 
pression so  placid  and  sweet,  that  I  could  not  believe 
it  that  of  one  who  had  just  closed  his  eyes  upon  all 
that  was  mortal.  An  inspection  of  the  body,  how- 
ever, upon  which  was  found  no  trace  of  even  a  death 
struggle,  and  no  mark  of  violence,  showed  a  death 
from  natural  causes.  The  body  lay  on  its  right  side, 
the  head  resting  on  a  hand  of  snowy  whiteness,  sin- 
gularly delicate  in  shape,  and  so  small  that  it  might 
have  been  taken  for  the  hand  of  a  lady.  On  turning 
again  to  the  face,  I  was  amazed  to  find  that  from  it 
had  vanished  every  trace  of  passion.  A  born  poli- 
tician, he  had  adopted  at  starting  the  tactics  that 
believed  in  nothing  but  success.  His  naturally  hand- 
some face  had  undergone  the  changes  incident  to  a 
stormy  career.  It  had  never  been  a  forbidding  or  a 
haughty  face,  though  it  was  one  that  had  been  strongly 
marked  with  a  contempt  for  all  that  was  vulgar.  Yet 
here  it  lay,  with  every  dark  line  obliterated.  It  is  one 
of  the  compensations  of  the  death  struggle,  however 
long  continued  or  violent,  that  its  horrible  imprint 
rarely  clings  to  the  features  after  the  struggle  has 
passed. 


22 


Prostitution  in  New  York, 


In  tills  case — 

"  M  Death  had  left  on  it 
Only  the  beautiful." 

That  hand,  so  shapely,  would  never  again  gesticulate 
defiance,  or  mark  with  graceful  emphasis  the  point  of 
an  epigram  or  argument.  That  voice,  so  marvelous 
in  its  power  to  kindle  the  passions  of  the  crowd,  or 
ontrol  them,  was  hushed  forever.  The  facile  pen  that 
had  given  to  American  literature  a  higher  contro- 
versial tone  than  it  had  ever  known  before,  dropped, 
without  a  premonition,  from  the  now  nerveless  fingers, 
and  all  that  remained  on  earth  of  the  once  great  civilian, 
rested  before  me  on  the  couch  of  a  prostitute. 

The  circumstance  carries  with  it  its  own  moral,  and 
it  is  safe  to  add,  that  could  every  fashionable  devotee 
of  passion  among  us  believe  for  a  moment  that  death 
might  finally  overtake  him  in  such  a  place,  these 
gilded  haunts  of  vice  would  have  fewer  patrons.  The 
woman  who  presided  over  this  house  I  had  known  in 
her  innocent  days,  in  a  manufacturing  town  in  Massa- 
chusetts. She  was  of  good  family,  and  had  been  hand- 
somely educated,  but  had  married  while  yet  in  her 
teens,  a  mechanic  of  good  standing  and  industrious 
habits.  A  passion  for  dress  and  fast  living  brought 
speedy  ruin  to  their  household,  and  tired  of  the  hum- 
drum life  of  a  country  village,  she  left  home  and  all  in 
it  for  the  home,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  in  which  I 
now  found  her.  I  had  not,  on  this  occasion,  therefore, 
been  sent  for  officially,  but  as  one  to  whom  she  could 
go  f<>r  advice  in  a  very  singular  and  unusual  dilemma. 

Dr.  G  m,  a  physician,  well  known  to  the  vicinity 

of  Murray  Hill,  was  sent  for,  who,  upon  exam  in  a- 
tiop,  pronounced  the  case  one  of  apoplexy.  The 
peculiar  circumstances  under  which  the  death  occurred, 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


23 


however,  called  for  a  coroner's  investigation,  and  1 
took  occasion  to  hint  that  I  might  he  called  upon  to 
make  some  disagreeable  revelations  if  an  inquest  upon 
the  body  should  be  omitted,  though  I  felt  that  there 
was  in  reality  no  reason  other  than  a  legal  one  why  an 
investigation  of  the  facts  should  be  made. 

Taking  up  an  evening  paper  of  the  next  day  after 
the  occurrence,  my  eye  fell  upon  a  paragraph,  an- 
nouncing in  startling  head-lines  the  sudden  death  of  a 
prominent  politician  and  author,  and  that  it  had 
taken  place,  as  was  supposed,  in  his  own  hall,  the  body 
having  been  discovered  in  the  morning  in  such  a 
position  as  to  warrant  the  belief  that  he  had  been 
seized  with  apoplexy  in  attempting  to  find  his  way  to 
his  own  chamber.  A  night-key,  found  in  his  vest 
pocket,  had  suggested  this  mode  of  disposing  of  the 
body,  a  carriage  and  two  attendants  being  all  that 
was  needed  to  carry  out  the  plan. 

As  I  passed  from  this  now  dismal  chamber  to  the 
hall  below,  I  paused  a  moment  at  the  door  of  the 
library — even  here  books  were  not  ignored — as  I  had 
a  word  for  the  mistress  before  leaving  ;  while  standing 
there,  my  eye  caught  the  figure  of  a  woman  in  the 
grand  saloon.  She  was  seated  at  a  small  table,  and 
apparently  absorbed  in  the  book  she  held  in  her  hand. 
The  face,  the  figure,  the  dress  she  wore,  and  the 
queenly  way  in  which  she  wore  it,  told  the  sad  story 
of  her  life  as  plainly  as  though  it  had  fallen  from  her 
own  lips. 

Evidently  annoyed  at  my  presence,  she  left 
the  parlor  and  passed  me  on  her  way  to  the  story 
above.  A  still  nearer  view  of  the  face  and  features, 
revealed  the  blight  that  had  come  upon  a  life  in  its 
first  bloom.    It  was  certain  that  such  a  face  and  man- 


24 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


nor  could  have  belonged  to  no  woman  who  had  been 
bred  to  a  life  of  shame. 

It  was  equally  plain  that  her  descent  to  her  present 
mode  of  lite  had  been  the  result  of  some  sudden 
resolve  or  overwhelming  impulse.  She  had  reached  it 
at  a  bound.  There  had  been  no  gradations.  The 
dread  alternative  had  been  presented,  and  she  had 
Beized  upon  it,  and  found  in  it  a  momentary  relief,  but 
the  consequences  of  the  fatal  step  were  stamped  in 
every  feature  with  unmistakable  distinctness.  All  this 
passed  through  my  brain  as  I  waited  for  a  servant  to 
let  me  into  the  street. 

As  1  sauntered  down  Fifth  Avenue,  the  face  still 
haunted  me  as  one  that  I  had  known  before.  It  sure- 
ly was  not  an  ideal  one.  There  was  a  look  of  intense 
suffering  in  it  that  nothing  would  ever  efface  ;  a  look 
that  had  become  part  of  it.  All  that  was  tender  and 
womanly  had  evidently  dropped  out  of  it  in  an  in- 
stant, yet  it  was  one  never  to  be  forgotten,  just  as  one 
who  has  seen  it,  never  forgets  Niagara,  the  Pyramids, 
or  a  rare  picture. 

There  was  a  strange,  sad  depth  in  the  dark  eye,  but 
no  touch  of  dreaminess.  The  head  was  one  that  a 
sculptor  would  have  chosen  as  a  model,  shapely  and 
delicate  in  contour,  "  a  perfect  head,"  as  the  phre- 
nologists would  say,  poised  upon  a  figure  that  seemed 
born  to  command.  At  all  events,  from  some  cause 
that  I  cannot  explain,  the  face  and  figure  entered  my 
memory  as  a  type,  and  though  1  saw  the  one,  years 
afterwards,  faded  and  withered,  the  other  clad  in  rags, 
the  picture  served  me  a  good  purpose.  The  reader 
will  ask  himself  why  I  have  been  thus  minute  in  de- 
scribing the  appearance  of  a  woman  that  was  after  all 
only  a  prostitute,  a  social  outcast,  so  to  speak,  the  re- 


Prostitution  m  New  York. 


25 


presentative  of  a  class,  and  about  the  only  class  of 
persons  absolutely  shut  out  from  all  sympathy  of  their 
kind.  The  very  idea  of  prostitution  for  money,  selling 
one's  soul  daily  to  the  highest  bidder,  is  such,  that  it 
consigns  the  woman  who  thus  makes  virtue  merchan- 
dise, to  social  oblivion,  more  than  that,  social  per- 
dition.   I  will  tell  him  why. 

It  is  a  commonly  received  opinion  that  but  few  wo- 
men of  intellect  or  education  enter  upon  this  life,  that 
they  are  for  the  most  part  women  of  a  low  order  of 
mind,  with  the  animal  instincts  largely  developed,  and 
a  low  development  of  the  moral.  The  opposite  is  the 
truth.  These  fallen  women,  as  a  class,  would  have 
taken  rank  in  their  innocent  days  with  the  average  of 
their  sex  in  all  the  essentials  of  womanhood,  and  we 
have  placed  this  woman  as  a  representative  of  many 
others  of  the  same  order  with  whom,  as  an  officer  of 
the  law,  we  have  for  years  come  in  frequent  contact. 
To  some,  therefore,  the  case  may  seem  a  curious  one, 
and  the  picture  largely  overdrawn.  It  is,  on  the  con- 
trary, drawn  from  life,  and  in  no  way  exaggerated, 
and  we  will  add  that  should  the  time  ever  come  when 
a  broader  humanity  can  get  down  from  its  pedestal, 
and  will  employ  a  part  of  its  energies  in  improving 
the  condition  of  these  unfortunate  ones,  it  will  find 
that  in  the  distribution  of  God's  best  gifts,  these  have 
not  been  neglected  ;  nay,  more,  it  will  find  that  the 
problem  which  their  unhappy  condition  presents  for 
solution  is  one  eminently  worthy  of  its  best  efforts. 


CHAPTEIt  III. 

pBOermmozr. — its  dtfluengb. — character  of  the 

ICES  WHO  SUSTAIN  IT. 

INCREDIBLE  as  it  may  seem,  the  records  of  this  de- 
partment of  crime,  in  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police 
ol*  this  city,  and  which  have  been  gathered  with  some 
care  aa  t<>  accuracy,  show  that  of  the  class  of  houses 
above  described  there  are  about  one  hundred,  most  of 
which  are  above  Fourteenth  street.  That  so  little  of 
them  is  known,  is  due  to  several  causes.  For  some  in- 
scrutable reason,  known  only  to  the  Chief  of  Police 
and  his  subordinates,  these  records  are  not  open  to 
public  inspection.  Of  course  the  public,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  this  department,  could  not  safely  be  trusted 
with  so  important  a  secret  as  that  which  should  reveal, 
for  Instance,  the  names  of  the  owners  of  these  houses, 
and  having,  moreover,  a  kind  of  pious  care  for  the 
public  morals,  it  keeps  it  in  blissful  ignorance,  as  well, 
of  all  the  other  details  of  this  social  crime.  While  it 
is  true  that  to  the  eye  of  the  public  prostitution  is  of 
necessity,  "  sub  rosa,"  and  that  its  worshipers  do  not 
aa  B  rule  parade  to  the  world  their  own  short-comings, 
there  is  still  no  good  reason  why  any  facts  in  relation 
to  the  effects  of  this  moral  disease  should  be  withheld 
from  any  person  desiring  to  possess  himself  of  them. 
The  truth  is,  prostitution,  like  an  exotic,  seeks  the 
shade. 

The  sunlight  rarely  falls  upon  its  orgies,  midnight 
iinds  it  at  its  height,  when  virtue  and  innocence  are 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


27 


asleep.  The  rosy  wine,  the  heated  atmosphere,  the 
broad  glare  from  a  hundred  jets  are  its  indispensable 
accessories,  the  crime  itself  is  one  that  grows  by  what 
it  feeds  upon  ;  it  is  a  blight  that  carries  its  curse  into 
the  very  heart  of  our  social  and  domestic  life  ;  its  de- 
votees are  confined  to  no  class  or  condition,  they  come 
from  every  walk  of  life,  many  of  them  laying  their 
freshest  energies,  their  cherished  dreams  and  their 
loftiest  ambitions  upon  the  altar  of  this  social  moloch. 
The  houses  in  which  prostitution  sells  its  favors  to  the 
highest  bidders,  are  comparatively  few  in  number,  but 
the  purchasers,  who  join  in  the  nightly  revel,  are 
legion.  From  the  Harlem  all  the  way  down  to  the 
vilest  dens  of  Water  street,  scarcely  a  house  can  be 
found,  in  which  are  not  visible,  some  of  the  dark 
traces  of  the  "  social  evil."  Is  every  house,  then,  a 
house  of  prostitution  ? — by  no  means.  But  they  who 
patronize  and  sustain  them  come  up  by  thousands 
from  every  social  grade. 

The  diseases  born  of  unhallowed  gratification  mingle 
their  taint  by  contact  or  transmission  with  the  best 
blood  of  the  country  ;  the  very  capitol  of  the  nation 
daily  presents  the  humiliating  spectacle  of  a  venereal 
leper  crawling  on  crutches  to  his  seat  in  the  Senate. 

Where  rests  the  responsibility  of  this  lustful  exhibit 
that  poisons  the  air  of  all  our  great  cities,  our  own 
more  than  all  others,  and  which,  during  the  war,  that 
prolific  propagator  of  lust,  spread  itself  like  a  great 
Upas  over  every  foot  of  soil  trodden  by  our  armies  ? 
Is  it  alone  the  woman  who  knocks  down  her  virtue' to 
the  highest  bidder  that  should  be  punished,  while  the 
too  willing  purchaser  goes  unscathed  ?  The  social 
ostracism  of  these  creatures,  which  society  erects  as  a 
barrier  for  its  own  protection,  exiles  the  prostitute,  but 


23 


Prostitution  in  Xtio  York, 


receives  with  Open  arms  the  man  fresh  from  her 
caresses.  While  it  shuts  its  door  in  the  face  of 
the  fallen,  it  elevates  to  the  highest  places  the  most 
abject  alaves  to  lust.  It  takes  two  parties  to  consum- 
mate the  crime  of  prostitution,  pray  let  me  ask  why 
the  weaker  party,  the  chief  and  almost  sole  sufferer  in 
this  business,  should  herself  pay  the  whole  penalty  ? 

It  would  seem  that  the  possessor  of  a  spark  of  man- 
hood, to  say  nothing  of  gallantry,  would  lead  a  man 
who  indulges  this  costly  and  demoralizing  vice,  to 
stand  Bquarely  up  and  take  his  share  of  the  odium  that 
comes  from  the  filthy  contact.  Say  what  you  will 
alx)ut  a  life  of  shame  being  on  the  part  of  the  prosti- 
tute a  voluntary  one,  there  still  remains  the  inconsisten- 
cy of  turning  up  one's  nose  in  pious  horror  at  a  frail 
one  who  appears  in  the  end  as  the  paramour  of  one's 
husband,  father,  friend,  or  it  may  be  lover.  Why 
should  the  man  who  has  deliberately  ruined  a  woman 
be  permitted  by  society  to  add,  without  fear  of  punish- 
ment, cowardice  to  perfidy? 

It  is  said  of  Aaron  Burr,  that  he  always  bore  toward 
the  women  who  shared  with  him  the  unmentionable 
crimes  against  virtue  with  which  history  charges  him, 
a  feeling  of  pity  and  tenderness,  bordering  on  respect, 
and  that  to  the  day  of  his  death  he  never  refused  to 
answer  the  pecuniary  demands  made  upon  him  by 
them  to  the  extent  of  his  ability  to  meet  them.  The 
code  BO  peculiarity  his  own,  and  so  characteristic  of 
the  man,  though  it  did  not  diminish  the  criminality  of 
bis  acts,  contained  nevertheless  an  element  of  manli- 
ness which,  despite  his  feelings,  goes  very  far  toward 
removing  his  name  from  the  oblivion  to  which  the 
public  opinion  of  his  day  consigned  it.  Whatever  his 
faults  in  all  other  directions,  history  will,  in  the  end, 


Prostitution  in  New  York,  29 

credit  him  with  a  sensibility  in  this  particular,  never 
attributed  to  any  other  man  of  his  stamp.  It  was  one 
of  the  redeeming  qualities  of  a  character  which,  de- 
spite Mr.  Parton's  attempt  to  whitewash  it,  was  not 
such  a  one  as  can  safely  be  imitated,  even  in  respect 
of  the  trait  of  which  wTe  speak. 

It  is  related  of  him,  that  only  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  a  poor  frail  creature  whom  he  had  known  in 
her  more  prosperous  days,  with  whom  he  had  long 
been  on  terms  of  criminal  intimacy,  called  upon  him 
when  he  shared  with  her  the  last  sum  of  money  he  was 
known  to  possess,  true  to  the  last  to  this  creature  who 
had  contributed  to  his  lustful  pleasures.  One  cannot 
but  entertain  a  feeling  of  respect  for  sensibilities  so 
delicate,  however  much  we  might  despise  Burr's 
morals,  and  the  love  of  intrigue  that  was  next  to  his 
ambition,  his  ruling  trait.  The  fact  that  there  is  no 
social  crime  committed  that  reaches  in  its  results  so 
far  down  into  the  very  heart  of  society,  social,  domes- 
tic and  civil,  cannot  be  overestimated,  while  in  its  re- 
mote influences  it  is  felt  everywhere.  In  its  filthy 
train  are  found  the  Restells,  the  Rosenzweigs,  and 
the  whole  brood  of  procurators  that  fatten  on  the  prey 
that  comes  to  them  unbidden.  As  we  ascend  in  the 
scale,  wTe  find  that  the  money  of  prostitutes,  backed  up 
by  that  of  those  who  patronize  them,  buys  out  the  law 
not  unfrequently  as  well  as  him  who  administers  it. 
This  is  not  all,  nor  the  worst.  A  large  share  of  do- 
mestic infelicity,  which,  with  us  Americans,  has  grown 
to  be  a  disease  without  apparent  remedy,  can  be 
traced  directly  to  prostitution. 

Considered  alone  as  a  moral  disease,  it  is  sufficiently 
hideous,  but  when  to  this  is  added  the  physical  suffer- 
ing entailed  upon  the  race  in  a  hereditary  way,  the 


80  Prostitution  in  New  York. 

bare  thought  of  it  is  sickening,  There  is  scarcely  a 
family  in  the  country  tliat  does  not,  at  this  moment, 
Buffer  from  its  immediate  effects,  and  every  reader  of 
these  pages  will  recall  some  case  of  venerial  contami- 
nation, wherein  the  sufferer  has  been  innocent  of  the 
character  of  the  ailment,  and  who  at  last  wTent  to  his 
grave  from  the  effects  of  the  "leprous  distilment." 
What  an  appalling  array  of  figures  would  that  be  that 
should  present  the  number  of  those  only  who  yearly 
rot  down  in  our  hospitals,  but  whose  deep  degradation 
and  Buffering  never  elicit  a  word  of  comment  or  com- 
miseration ! 

True,  this  is  the  dark,  disgusting  side  of  the 
picture,  but  it  is  the  one  which  appeals  to  the  philan- 
thropist, the  moralist,  and  the  Church,  with  a  mute 
eloquence  more  touching  than  words.  The  number 
of  prostitutes  on  Manhattan  Island  is  variously  esti- 
mated at  from  twelve  to  twenty  thousand.  Either 
estimate,  and  the  latter  is  probably  the  correct  one, 
makes  a  sufficiently  damning  record  of  specific  crime. 
Dr.  Bellows,  one  of  nature's  really  noble  men,  and  one 
who  has  none  of  the  prejudices  shared  in  common  by 
his  cloth  against  the  creatures  that  are  doomed  to  lead 
shameless  lives,  not  more  from  their  own  shortcomings 
than  from  the  fact  that  society  extends  no  kindly  hand 
for  their  relief,  lias,  during  his  ministration  in  this 
city,  devoted  a  large  portion  of  his  time  in  devising 
some  way  that  will  be  effective  in  improving  their 
condition,  moral  and  physical.  In  this  work  he  has 
been  ably  seconded  by  Bishop  Simpson,  and  with  such 
as  these  to  lead  in  the  good  work  much  may  yet  be 
done  to  dispel  prejudice  and  create  in  the  community 
a  healthy  public  sentiment  in  a  matter  vital  to  all 
classes  of  society.    No  holier  work  since  the  Crusades 


Prostitution  in  New  York, 


31 


ever  presented  itself  to  those  who  are  willing  to  help 
on  a  much-needed  reform. 

Mr.  Crapsey,  in  his  "  Nether  Side  of  New  York," 
an  intensely  interesting  account  of  crime  and  its 
haunts  in  this  city,  makes  the  number  much  smaller, 
altogether  about  twelve  thousand.  His  figures,  from 
whatever  source  gathered,  are  far  too  small.  The 
most  intelligent  and  accurate  estimates  make  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  use  prostitution  as  a  means  of  living 
not  far  from  twenty-five  thousand.  The  comparative- 
ly new  phase  of  it  that  seeks  the  seclusion  of  the  house 
of  assignation,  avoiding  the  parlor,  the  street,  the 
hotel  and  the  basement,  presents  to  the  philanthropist 
a  fresh  problem  for  solution. 

To  solve  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  effectually  cripple  its 
baleful  influence  by  confining  it  to  well-defined  and 
certain  limits,  will  call  into  active  service  the  best 
brain  and  heart  of  this  Sodom  of  Western  civilization. 
Recent  developments  in  this  direction  reveal  the  start- 
ling and  humiliating  fact,  that  thousands  of  married 
women — married  men  are  no  longer  the  exclusive  cul 
prits  in  this  demoralizing  business — moving  in  the 
highest  circles  of  society,  sewing  women,  and  young 
girls  still  in  their  teens,  and  upon  whom  no  suspicion 
even  of  lewdness  rests,  are  nevertheless  women  of 
shame.  Between  these  and  the  openly  abandoned, 
there  is  but  a  single  distinction,  that  of  occupation. 
Many  of  these  are  known  as  active  workers  in  the  be- 
nevolent schemes  of  the  day,  and  some  even  are  to  be 
found  in  the  Church.  A  large  proportion  of  them — 
and  this  is  the  worst  feature  of  the  case — are  beyond 
the  woes  of  want,  and  prostitute  themselves,  not  for 
money,  but  from  choice.  Of  this  class  Mr.  Crapsey 
seems  to  have  taken  but  little  account,  but  the  fact 


82 


Prostitution  in  New  Tori-. 


that  it  takes  one  hundred  houses  to  accommodate 
them,  Bhowa  their  number  to  have  been,  up  to  this 
time,  underestimated.  It  assuredly  is  a  disagreeable 
f.u-t  to  look  at,  but  it  must  be  met,  and  more  than  this, 
it  must  be  made  the  basis  of  an  intelligent  effort  to 
mitigate  the  evil.  When  it  is  considered  that  the 
most  reliable  estimate  makes  one  woman  out  of  every 
twenty  born  in  this  city  a  prostitute,  nothing  more  is 
needed  in  the  way  of  figures. 

The  public  prostitute  forms  one  of  a  distinct  class, 
and  in  it  one  is  rarely  found  that  will  not  attribute  her 
ruin  to  some  married  man  or  lover,  so  that  forever 
after  she  is  the  uncompromising  enemy  of  the  custom- 
er- Bhe  lures  to  her  door.  After  all,  the  really  large 
number  of  those  who  reach  the  parlor-house  through 
the  house  of  assignation,  shows  that  voluntary  prosti- 
tution would  occupy  no  small  place  in  a  record  accu- 
rately made  up.  As  to  culpability,  it  seems  to  be 
about  equally  shared  between  the  sexes,  the  peculiar 
circumstance  of  each  case  not  being  taken  into  the  ac- 
connt.  The  lustful  passion  is  stronger  in  woman  than 
in  man,  but  the  incentives  to  virtue  are  far  stronger 
in  woman,  owing  to  her  supposed  moral  superiority, 
and  her  far  more  delicate  sens'bilities,  so  that  responsi- 
bility is  about  evenly  divided. 

This  delicacy  once  overcome,  her  progress  down- 
ward  is  rapid  beyond  conception,  and  when  she  has 
touched  bottom,  it  will  be  found  at  a  distance  beyond 
the  reach  of  man.  In  her  descent  she  will  sound  every 
note  of  the  filthy  gamut.  It  seems  then,  that  money 
is  so  rarely  a  first  incentive  to  lewdness,  that  it  need 
not  to  be  taken  largely  into  the  account  in  any  inquiry 
as  to  its  causes.  The  important  part  it  plays  when 
all  shame  ceases,  and  passion  has  been  degraded  to  a 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


33 


business  level,  is  quite  another  matter — a  question  we 
gladly  relegate  to  the  expounders  of  ethical  science. 
With  that  large  class  of  women  who  are  compelled  to 
work  for  a  living,  the  passion  for  dress  and  finery 
must  be  added  to  the  causes  of  lewdness  ;  but  if  there 
were  no  difficulties  in  the  way  of  procuring  the  em- 
ployment sought,  the  number  of  prostitutes  coming 
from  this  class  would  still  be  very  great.  In  great 
cities  like  this,  where  the  pangs  of  poverty,  if  felt  at 
all,  are  extreme,  it  is  no  wonder  that  so  many  are 
found  too  willing  to  exchange  rags  for  finery,  though 
the  exchange  be  made  at  the  expense  of  the  quality 
most  dear  to  every  true  woman.  It  is  to  be  re- 
membered that  this  class  of  fallen  ones,  deficient  at 
best  in  the  self-respect  that  is  the  foundation  of  a  good 
name,  are  rarely,  if  ever,  reclaimed  from  a  life  of 
shame. 

If  the  guilty  alone,  the  physically  poisoned,  suffered 
from  the  effects  of  this  contaminating  contact,  the 
case  would  still  be  bad  enough,  but  when  innocent 
women,  to  say  nothing  of  the  children  they  have 
borne,  bear  in  their  faces  through  life,  down  to  their 
very  graves,  the  disgusting  evidence  of  poisoned  con- 
tact with  their  own  husbands,  it  becomes  one  that  can 
not  be  contemplated  by  decent  people  without  a 
mingled  feeling  of  disgust  and  indignation.  This  part 
of  the  subject  is  certainly  an  unsavory  one,  but  it  can 
not  be  omitted  in  a  category  that  would  be  imperfect 
without  it,  nevertheless  a  single  illustration  will 
suffice. 

A  few  months  ago  I  had  occasion  to  visit  the  city 
of  Utica,  professionally,  and  on  the  day  of  my  return 
was  struck  by  the  peculiar  appearance  of  a  lady  si; ting 
opposite  me  at  the  table  at  Baggs'  hotel.    She  was 


84 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  so  closely  veiled,  that 
but  a  very  Bmall  portion  of  her  face  was  visible.  The 
eye  of  a  detective,  sharpened  by  observation,  is  always 
on  the  look-out  for  unusual  appearances,  and  this  was 
B  ease  that  annoyed,  while  it  excited  my  curiosity. 
(  ha  <>ne  side  of  the  lady  sat  a  boy  of  six  years,  I  should 
Bay,  handsomely  dressed,  and  with  a  face  so  sunny, 
and  so  indicative  of  boyish  humor  and  roguery,  that  I 
longed  for  a  romp  with  him.  In  a  seat  at  the  left  of 
her  mother  sat  a  daughter,  as  I  afterward  learned,  of 
the  lady,  a  girl  ten  or  twelve  years  old,  and  beautiful 
beyond  any  power  of  mine  to  describe.  It  was  of  a 
sort  the  very  opposite  of  that  of  her  brother,  yet  both 
were  beautiful,  her's  the  delicate  beauty  that  fades  at  a 
touch  of  disease  or  misfortune. 

On  entering  a  drawing-room  car  soon  after,  the 
three  occupied  chairs  opposite  my  own.  At  Rome  an 
old  friend,  whom  I  had  known  years  before  at  Wash- 
ington, came  on  board,  and  without  stopping  to  take 
my  hand  as  he  passed  with  a  bow  of  recognition,  walk- 
ed straight  to  the  lady  and  greeted  her  in  the  most 
cordial  manner,  bestowing  at  the  same  time  a  kiss 
upon  each  of  the  children,  who  seemed  equally  pleas- 
ed to  see  him.  Shortly  after  he  took  a  chair  next  me, 
and  my  curiosity  by  this  time  was  fully  aroused,  the 
more  so  as  I  caught  the  glimpse  of  a  face  that  bore 
the  unmistakable  marks  of  a  loathsome,  and,  as  I 
thought,  unmentionable  disease. 

Our  conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the  party, 
and  the  sad  history  that  formed  the  subject  of  it  I 
give  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  own  words.    "  The 

lady  you  see,"  said  he,  "  is  the  daughter  of  Judge  , 

one  of  the  ablest  lawyers  in  the  State.  I  knew 
her  at  that   time  as  one  of  the   most  beautiful 


m 


Prostitution  hi  Yew  York.  35 

women  I  had  ever  met,  and  she  was  as  gifted  as  she 
was  beautiful.  Reared  in  affluence,  she  had  known 
none  but  pleasant  associations." 

Thirteen  years  ago  she  married  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant and  promising  young  lawyers  in  Western  New 
York.  For  a  time  all  went  well,  and  the  two  children 
you  see  were  the  only  fruit  of  what  was  thought  to  be 
an  especially  happy  marriage.  Ambitious  and  proud 
of  the  success  in  his  profession  which  his  talents  com- 
manded, he  entered'  political  life,  and  from  that  day 
he  was  a  doomed  man.  A  native  tendency  to  dissipa- 
tion rapidly  developed  itself,  fostered  by  the  more  than 
corrupt  associations  that  now  pervade  every  phase  of 
our  political  life.  Brilliant  and  gifted  as  a  lawyer,  he 
was  not  successful  as  a  politician,  and  after  plunging 
into  every  excess  known  to  the  lowest  of  pot-house 
wire-pullers,  he  ended  all  one  morning  by  suicide. 
The  only  legacy  he  left  behind  him  is  the  two  children 
you  see,  and  you  have  seen  of  course  what  remains  of 
the  once  beautiful  face  of  which  you  caught  a  view 
as  she  removed  her  veil  when  I  entered  the  car. 

She  is  now  on  her  way  home  from  the  Arkansas 
Springs,  whither  she  has  been  for  treatment,  and  from 
which  she  has  derived  much  benefit.  Of  the  nature 
of  the  ravages  of  the  disease  that  was  literally  con- 
suming her,  she  was  kept  in  ignorance  until  she  was 
shunned  by  some  of  her  own  relatives,  who  refused 
longer  to  meet  her  with  the  usual  caress.  Through 
the  advice  of  an  ignorant  physician,  she  was  denied 
the  companiDnship  for  a  time  of  her  children.  That 
is  now  happily  ended,  as  she  has  them  with  her,  but 
you  see  she  is  disfigured  for  life.  What  compensa- 
tion, he  added,  can  ever  come  to  this  poor  sensitive 
creature  on  this  side  of  the  grave  for  so  cruel  a  wrong 


30 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


as  this,  and  what  penalty  is  adequate  to  punish  sucli 
a  crime?  She  is  now  thirty  years  old,  but  she  has 
lived  a  thousand  in  suffering  already.  When  the  hor- 
rible  truth  first  dawned  upon  her  it  is  said  that  she 
uttered  not  one  murmuring  word  at  the  inconceivable 
loss  of  her  beauty,  or  of  herself,  it  was  of  the  fate  of 
the  two  beautiful  children  only  that  you  see,  that  she 
thought. 

Her  chief  trouble  now  is,  that  some  day  or  other 
these  children  will  be  made  acquainted  with  the  cause 
of  her  frightful  misfortune,  and  that  from  that  mo- 
ment she  will  be  only  an  object  of  loathing  to  them. 
Could  the  mute  suffering  which  this  innocent  woman 
and  mother  has  experienced  be  crowded  into  a  single 
picture,  what  a  story  of  unutterable  woe  it  would  tell, 
and  yet  this  is  but  one  of  a  thousand  similar  ones  that 
could  be  taken  from  the  same  condition  in  life.  This 
simple  recital,  true  to  the  most  minute  detail,  carries 
with  it  its  moral ;  not  another  word  need  be  added. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


PROSTITUTION  A  CIVIL  CRIME. — WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE 
WITH  IT. 

The  fact  that  private  prostitution  is  becoming  al- 
most as  general  with  us  as  in  France,  where  social 
morality  has  never  attained  to  a  very  high  pitch,  is 
not  a  hopeful  or  comforting  indication,  yet  such  is  the 
fact,  and  it  is  one  that  must  be  dealt  with  primarily 
in  any  effort  to  check  or  lesson  its  magnitude.  The 
main  cause  of  this  is  at  once  transparent  and  conclu- 
sive. The  extravagance  born  of  abundant  resources, 
war,  and  success  in  all  directions,  has  so  corrupted 
every  portion  of  our  national  life,  that  the  moral  tone 
of  the  nation  is  no  longer  what  it  once  was,  but  has 
reached  a  depth  so  low  as  to  be  shocking  even  to  our- 
selves. 

Social  crimes,  like  infanticide,  that  were  once  placed 
on  a  level  with  murder,  are  now  not  only  looked  upon 
with  complacency  or  overlooked  altogether,  but  are 
defended  on  principle  by  certain  theorists  who  believe 
that  the  begetting  of  large  families  should  be  prohib- 
ited by  wholesome  legislation.  This  and  the  love  of 
ease  and  luxurious  living,  have  so  infected  our  domes- 
tic life,  that  if  we  go  on  at  the  present  rate,  virtue 
will  be  a  commodity  to  be  found  only  among  a  few 
old-fashioned  and  simple  minded  people. 

Our  system  of  female  education  which  fosters  a  con- 
tempt for  the  mother  that  delves  among  the  pots  and 
kettles  in  the  kitchen,  while  the  accomplished  daugh- 


Prostituti07i  in  New  York. 


ter  just  home  from  school,  armed  with  her  diploma, 
thumps  away  at  the  piano  in  the  drawing  room,  must 
be  hold  accountable  for  much  of  the  looseness  in 
morals  and  virtue.  As  a  corrollary  to  this,  the  busi- 
0688  of  the  abortionist  has  been  elevated  to  the 
dignity  of  a  science.  Kestells  and  Rosenzweigs  flour- 
ish and  grow  rich  from  prostitution  as  as  source  of 
income,  and  by  way  of  digression,  let  me  ask  why 
this  woman  has  gone  on  for  thirty  years  or  more,  com- 
mitting murders  by  wholesale,  and  with  perfect  im- 
munity ?  It  is  alleged  as  a  reason  that  Judges,  high 
in  the  public  esteem  furnish  her  with  victims,  and  we 
give  the  rumor  for  what  it  is  worth.  Certain  it  is,  she 
goes  unwhippcd  of  justice,  while  her  foul  hands  reek 
with  the  blood  of  murdered  innocence — literally  an 
unchecked  and  continuous  •slaughter  of  the  innocents. 
In  our  failure  to  make  this,  and  the  crimes  kindred  to 
it,  odious  as  is  our  plain  duty,  the  whole  country 
revels  in  a  very  saturnalia  of  lewdness  and  incontin- 
ency,  insomuch  that  with  female  Young  America  the 
most  successful  of  Don  Juans  wins  its  smiles  and  car- 
esses, while  modesty  and  virtue  take  back  seats,  or  are 
elbowed  into  the  corner. 

The  simple  minded  youth  carefully  reared,  it  may 
be,  by  a  judicious  mother,  goes  out  into  the  world 
with  a  nature  sweet  and  pure  as  it  came  from  the 
hands  of  its  Maker,  only  to  find  himself  laughed  at 
as  a  "  spooney,"  or  bit  of  verdancy  not  to  be  tolerated. 
A  year  or  more  of  contact  with  girls  of  his  own  age, 
trained  under  the  system  that  pulls  down  modesty 
and  rears  impudence  and  impertinence  in  its  place,  is 
quite  sufficient  to  take  the  bloom  from  the  rose ;  and 
so  it  has  come  to  pass  that  the  innocent  modesty  of  man- 
ner that  is  the  crowning  glory  of  a  girl  just  blooming 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


39 


into  womanhood,  is  scarcely  to  be  fonnd  in  its  perfec- 
tion outside  of  the  conventual  schools  of  the  coun- 
try. iAs  it  is,  only  a  few  people  of  cultivated  and  old- 
fashioned  antecedents  can  afford  to  possess  manners 
without  ostentation,  or  travel  without  carrying  on 
their  persons  jewelry  sufficient  to  stock  a  small  store. 
The  really  well-bred  and  independent  woman,  whose 
position  is  well  assured,  can  afford  to  make  her  jour- 
neys in  a  linen  traveling  dress,  to  be  neat,  clean,  and 
comfortable,  in  short. 

But  placing  the  responsibility  of  the  crime  of  pros- 
titution where  you  will,  the  practical  question  is, 
"  what  will  you  do  with  it  ?"  The  question  not  that 
of  eradication,  that  is  Utopian,  but  of  checking  its  ra- 
vages by  wholesome,  judicious  regulation.  Society 
encounters  the  hard  palpable  fact,  "what  will  society 
do  with  it  V  France,  with  an  eye  to  business,  and 
decency  as  well,  looking  at  it,  not  from  a  distance  with 
pious  horror,  shouting  as  do  we  "  indecent ! — unclean !" 
gets  down  to  it  as  a  poetical  question,  strips  it  of  all 
sentiment,  and  proceeds,  in  a  common  sense  way,  to 
regulate  it  in  such  a  manner  that  it  shall  become  a 
source  of  revenue  to  the  state.  If  men  and  women- will 
be  lewd,  let  them  pay  for  the  privilege.  We  shall  not 
now  argue  the  moral  question,  but  simply  state  the 
case  as  it  rests  in  her  hands,  and  the  result  that  she  has 
reached  in  her  eminently  practical  treatment  of  it,  and 
which  may  be  formulated  thus. 

Prostitution  is  a  crime  against  the  state,  it  must 
therefore  be  regulated  by  law  It  cannot  be  wholly 
eradicated,  but  the  good  of  society  demands  that  it 
shall  be  regulated  just  as  the  traffic  in  intoxicating 
liquors  is  regulated  with  us,  or  tho  adulteration  of 
food  is  in  continental  Europe.    She  did  not  stop  to 


40 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


grapple  with  the  evil  to  suppress  it,  as  some  Xew  York 
officials  are  said  to  do,  but  who  manage  to  fill  their 
pockets  with  the  wages  of  shame,  without  any  sensible 
diminution  of  the  evil  itself,  but  went  to  work  to  re- 
duce  the  business,  for  such  it  really  is,  to  a  well-ordered 
Bystem,  constantly  under  the  eye  and  in  the  power  of 
her  police.  A  recent  legislature  of  this  State,  with  the 
herculean  grasp  of  mind  that  distinguishes  the  average 
of  that  yearly  deliberate  assemblage  of  statesmen,  put 
(in  its  spectacles,  went  into  a  virtuous  spasm  that  for 
a  time  threatened  its  very  existence  on  account  of  its 
rarity,  and  cleaned  up  the  whole  unclean  business  by 
enacting  a  law  that  lewd  women  should  not  be  allowed 
to  solicit  men  on  the  street. 

Exhausted  with  this  legislative  incubation,  they  sat 
down  to  rest,  and  to-day  there  are  as  many  "street- 
walkers "  as  ever  on  our  streets,  and  the  business  of 
soliciting  anywhere  out  of  Broadway  proceeds  the 
same  as  before.  "When  your  boon  legislator  is  decoyed 
into  a  house  of  prostitution,  it  must  not  be  by  verbal 
solicitation,  but  through  the  influence  of  the  sly  wink, 
or  nod,  so  potent  to  convince  him  the  way  he  ought  to 
vote  for  instance,  on  any  important  question. 

Paris,  with  her  hives  of  prostitution,  yielding  by 
compulsion  a  portion  of  their  sweets  as  a  revenue  in 
return  for  the  protection  which  both  these  and  society 
receive  by  such  regulation,  divides  all  her  lewd  houses 
into  classes ;  registers  each,  compels  personal  cleanli- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  inmates,  and  provides  the  most 
rigid  medical  inspection  and  supervision,  punishing 
the  least  infraction  of  these  regulations  with  the  sever- 
ed penalties.  The  result  is  that  an  air  of  decency  is 
given  to  the  whole  business  that  it  has  never  assumed 
with  us,  and  never  can  assume,  so  long  as  we  continue 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


41 


to  treat  it  at  arm's  length,  or  what  is  nearer  the  truth, 
refuse  to  touch  it  at  all.  We  stand  appalled  at  the 
growing  enormity,  and  gabble  about  the  immorality 
of  it.  France  ignores  it  as  a  moral  question,  leaving 
that  to  be  settled  and  looked  after  by  the  benevolent 
and  the  philanthropist,  but  goes  straight  to  work  to 
render  it  outwardly  and  within,  as  decent  as  may 
be. 

Ah  S  say  our  good,  well-meaning,  but  impracticable 
moralists,  this  French  treatment  is  wholly  utilitarian. 
It  is  Herbert  Spencer  and  John  Stuart  Mill,  reduced 
to  practice,  with  God  and  morality  left  out.  When 
we  are  taught  as  we  shall  be  sooner  or  later,  and  per- 
haps through  the  agency  of  this  very  evil,  that  the 
business  of  government  is  to  deal  with  crime,  not  as  a 
moral  question,  but  to  afford  protection  by  enacting 
wholesome  laws,  and  looking  rigidly  to  their  enforce- 
ment, ridding  ourselves  of  the  idea  that  its  business 
is  to  do  this,  and  teach  a  Sunday-school  beside,  we 
shall  have  brought  ourselves  to  the  sensible,  practical 
business  of  a  proper  regulation  of  it.  The  success 
achieved  by  France  in  keeping  this  social  and  civil 
curse  within  decent  limits,  is  worthy  of  our  immediate 
imitation. 

An  effort  was  made  a  few  years  ago  in  St.  Louis  to 
regulate  the  evil  there  something  after  the  French 
methods.  The  trial  resulted  in  failure,  and  chiefly  by 
reason  of  the  fact,  as  we  are  informed,  that  public 
sentiment  was  altogether  opposed  to  any  merely  utili- 
tarian regulation,  what  it  demanded  was  a  moral  treat- 
ment of  the  case.  The  result  was  that  prostitution  in 
St.  Louis  re-occupies  its  old  rut.  Humanity  and  com- 
mon sense  will  clasp  hands  some  day  over  this  dirty 
business  in  our  great  cities,  and  when  they  do,  the 


42 


Prostitution  in  Xew  York, 


4*  ulcerous  film  n  will  be  robbed  of  its  most  bestial  fea- 
tures. 

The  more  rigid  moralist  or  pietarian  will  admit,  on 
inspection,  that  the  French  method  has  far  more  hu- 
;  \  in  it  than  our  own  unchristian  habit  of  allow- 
ing these  poor  creatures  to  rot  down  under  our  very 
eyes  by  thousands  every  year  in  basements  reeking 
with  filth.  As  the  result  of  our  failure  to  regulate 
the  evil,  the  number  of  those  who  engage  in  the  busi- 
ness is  unlimited.  The  field  is  an  ample  one,  and  wide 
open  to  all  who  choose  to  enter  it.  Prostitution  and 
robbery  in  panel  houses  flourish  under  the  same  roof, 
and  indeed  it  may  be  said  that  in  this  city  gambling, 
robbery,  drunkenness,  murder  and  suicide,  are  all 
linked  to  prostitution.  Turning  to  the  moral  side  of 
the  question  for  a  moment,  the  utter  inconsistency  of 
our  squeamishness  and  prudery,  not  to  say  hypocri- 
cy,  become  painfully  transparent.  Society,  even  the 
Church  receives  the  adulterer  with  open  arms,  but 
consign  to  outer  christian  and  social  darkness  the 
no  more  guilty  adulteress. 

To  cite  a  shining  example  by  way  of  illustration,- 1 
need  only  refer  to  the  case  of  Lord  Bury,  a  high  official 
under  Queen  Victoria,  who  while  on  his  way  to  Canada, 
on  a  St.  Lawrence  steamer,  shocked  public  decency  by 
sharing  his  state-room  and  his  table  with  a  notorious 
prostitute,  yet  he  was  courted,  caressed,  and  toadied 
by  the  very  best  people  of  the  Dominion.  Mothers 
who  had  marriageable  daughters  on  their  hands,  with 
small  and  large  dowries,  fairly  beset  this  modest  and 
virtuous  scion  of  English  aristocracy  to  take  them 
home  with  him.  The  successful  one  was  the  wife  of 
Sir  Allan  McXab,  who  finally  managed  to  bury  her 
daughter  into  the  arms  of  Lord  Bury,  as  his  lawful, 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  43 


wedded  spouse,  and  at  the  marriage  of  whom,  all  aris- 
tocratic Canada  went  literally  beside  itself,  doing  hom- 
age to  Bury  on  bended  knee.  We  may  ridicule  the 
new  school  of  social  scientists  as  much  as  we  may,  but 
we  wTill  do  well  in  the  meantime  to  rid  ourselves  of  all 
cant  on  the  subject  of  the  u  social  evil,"  if  we  cannot 
get  down  from  our  pious  stilts  to  the  more  pressing 
need  of  regulating  it. 

One  other  notorious  circumstance  as  illustrating  our 
own  hypocrisy.  There  is  a  newspaper  in  this  city 
that  finds  its  way  daily  into  the  hands  of  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  million  of  readers,  a  sheet  that  has  coined 
millions  by  its  advertising  patronage  alone.  Not  an 
issue  of  it  ever  appears  that  does  not  contain  an  array 
of  advertisements,  penned  by  the  filthy  fingers  of 
pimps,  procurators,  and  abortionists.  In  close  prox- 
imity, as  if  by  way  of  illustrating  how  closely  nasti- 
ness  and  purity  can  dwell  together,  can  be  seen  in  the 
same  issue,  notices  of  sermons  to  be  preached,  together 
with  the  subject  of  the  discourses,  and  then,  as  if  to 
cap  the  filthy  climax,  the  sermons  themselves  are 
given  with  editorial  comments  in  the  pious  Monday's 
issue  of  this  same  immaculate  sheet ;  while  we  is  ew 
Yorkers,  with  all  our  squeamishness  and  prudery, 
who  turn  up  our  noses  at  the  "  Police  Gazette,"  take 
this  paper  to  our  homes  and  place  it  in  the  hands  of 
our  children.  In  a  really  Christian  community  this 
would  be  considered  almost  as  bad  as  prostitution 
itself.  What  else  is  it,  but  a  pandering  to  the  worst  of 
social  crimes,  those  who  should  leave  nothing  undone 
to  mitigate  its  horrors. 

Still  another  case.  Years  ago,  before  business  took 
its  line  of  march  above  Fourteenth  street,  the  corpora- 
tion of  Trinity  leased  buildings,  which  were  said  at 


H  Prostitution  in  New  Tonic. 

the  time  to  be  notorious  houses  of  prostitution.  Think 
of  this  great  pious  and  wealthy  corporation  setting  out 
to  evangelise  the  world  by  money  drawn  from  the  bu- 
siness of  prostitution,  a  corporation,  moreover,  that  is 
allowed  by  the  state  to  hold  sixty  millions  of  real  pro- 
perty exempt  from  taxation. 

To  say  that  such  a  regulation  of  the  evil  as  we 
propose  is  to  varnish  crime,  and,  by  rendering  it 
more  attractive,  and  less  open,  increase  its  power 
to  demoralize  and  destroy,  is  absurd.  Suppose  the 
same  argument  were  made  to  apply  to  our  state  pri- 
sons and  reformatories,  to  the  extent  that  personal 
cleanliness  and  decent  manners  should  be  ignored,  lest 
these  places  should  be  rendered  more  attractive.  The 
treatment  may  have  been  a  little  rough,  but  we  think 
"  Long  John  Wentworth,"  while  Mayor  of  Chicago, 
struck  a  telling  blow  against  lewdness  in  that  city, 
when  he  ordered  the  keepers  of  these  houses  to  be 
taxed,  and  that  they  must  get  the  tax  out  of  their  cus- 
tomers. "If  these  fellows  will  be  adulterers,"  said 
he,  "  let  them  foot  the  bills/' 

If  prostitution,  like  rum-selling,  must  be  tolerated 
because  not  susceptible  of  absolute  banishment,  why 
not  subject  it  like  the  former  to  license  regulation? 
Why  should  not  crime,  where  it  is  possible  to  do  it, 
be  made  to  pay  the  expenses  of  all  efforts  to  regulate 
or  lessen  it,  and  to  pay  in  addition  a  revenue  to  the 
state  i  Why  should  the  people  be  taxed  to  regulate  a 
business  abundantly  able,  like  that  of  liquor  selling, 
to  make  some  amends  for  the  raids  it  makes  upon  so- 
ciety  \  Why,  in  short,  should  not  all  our  prisons, 
almshouses,  houses  of  refuge,  and  other  reformatories, 
be  made  self-sustaining,  and  to  yield  beside  something 
to  the  state  ?    Apply  this  principle  to  prostitution  as  a 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


45 


business'  rigidly,  and  Water  Street  and  the  "  Five 
Points  "  would  soon  become  impossibilities.  To  deal 
with  it,  after  our  present  slip-shod  way,  is  to  go  back 
upon  our  boasted  civilization.  This  much  of  the  prac- 
tical side  of  this  important  question. 

Of  the  poor  depraved  creatures  that  have  fled  from 
virtuous  homes  and  gentle  companionship,  to  lead 
lives  of  the  most  besotted  beastliness,  and  prostitution 
at  its  worst,  is  just  this,  it  is  useless  to  utter  a  word  of 
remonstrance  with  the  hope  of  being  heeded. 

The  traffic,  and  the  manner  of  it,  are  peculiar.  It 
is  a  life,  once  entered  upon,  all  desire  to  retrace  the 
fatal  step  vanishes.  Maddened  by  stimulants,  taken 
at  first  to  still  the  remorse  that  mingles  its  pangs  with 
the  memories  of  innocent  years,  the  very  sight  of  vir- 
tue becomes  hateful  to  the  victim,  all  of  which,  added 
to  the  still  more  bitter  thought,  that  they  are  moral 
lepers,  without  hope,  renders  life  a  perpetual  tumult 
of  consuming  fire.  Steeped  in  opium,  or  whiskey, 
they  lie  stupid  by  day,  dreaming  of  the  coming  night's 
debauch,  the  orgies  that  light  up  their  cheerless,  drea- 
ry way  with  brief  but  lurid  glares  of  pleasurable  ex- 
citement. Of  the  hags,  who,  under  the  guise  of  mis- 
tress or  madame,  despoil  them  of  their  earnings  as  an 
equivalent  for  the  miserable  mockery  of  a  home,  we 
have  only  a  word  to  utter.  Such  a  character  is  be- 
yond reproach  or  criticism.  There  are  some  criminals 
that  cannot  be  fitly  described  by  words,  and  "  madame" 
is  one  of  them. 

Of  the  "badger"  who  deliberately  robs  the  poor 
creature  of  the  wages  of  her  sin,  or  who  lives  upon 
her  bounty  under  the  thin  disguise  of  lover,  or  hus- 
band, and  to  whom  she  often  clings  with  the  devotion 
born  of  the  moral  disease  that  is  consuming  her,  noth- 


46 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


ing  need  be  said.  There  is  no  hell  that  can  be  pic- 
tured  that  he  would  not  disgrace  with  his  filthy  pre- 
sence. He  is  sul  generis,  outside  of  our  pale,  and 
being  referable  to  no  species  that  Darwin  has  men- 
edj  may  be  dismissed  as  a  moral  monster,  too  far 
below  the  human  species  to  be  reached  by  human  con- 
tempt. So  of  the  pimp  and  procurator,  the  former  a 
character,  the  introduction  of  which  in  this  chapter 
calls  for  an  apology.  Nevertheless1,  the  horrid  gallery 
would  be  incomplete  unless  graced  by  his  loathsome 
visage. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HOUSES  OF  PROSTITUTION,  AND  THOSE  WHO  OWN  THEM. 

We  have  mentioned  how  far  the  Trinity  Church 
corporation  was  formerly  responsible  for  the  social 
evil,  and  we  wish  to  say  that  it  was  with  no  intention 
of  throwing  contempt  on  Christianity,  or  those  who 
yield  it  their  influence  and  support,  but  to  show  that 
reform  in  this  direction,  if  it  comes  at  all,  must  come 
from  a  change  in  public  sentiment  from  its  present 
tone  of  demoralization  upon  this  question.  Those  who 
prop  it  up  indirectly,  by  furnishing  it  with  buildings 
in  which  to  carry  it  on,  must  accept,  not  shrink  from, 
the  responsibility  imposed  by  their  acts.  While  it  is 
doubtful  if  prostitution  would  cease  to  exist  as  an  in- 
stitution among  us,  even  if  no  decent  person  could  be 
found  to  furnish  it  shelter,  it  would  still  flourish 
through  the  help  of  those  who  have  means  sufficient 
to  build  houses  specially  for  its  accommodation,  and 
who  unfortunately  have  no  character  to  lose.  But  it 
so  happens  that  men  of  wealth  and  good  social  posi- 
tion, some  prominent  in  the  church  even,  contribute 
directly  to  prop  up  the  business  by  building  houses  for 
its  accommodation,  and  who  derive  their  chief  income 
from  rentals  at  the  most  exhorbitant  rates.  To  dimin- 
ish lewdness,  reform  must  commence  at  the  outset, 
right  here,  where  cupidity  and  saintly  hypocrisy  are 
banded  together  for  its  support. 

An  institution  that  rears  its  palaces  without  let  or  hind- 
rance in  quarters  where  virtue  alone  is  supposed  to  dwell, 


48 


Prostitution  vn  New  York. 


fids  bo  well  assured  of  its  position,  that  it  laughs  at 
any  attempt  to  control  it.  Judges,  lawyers,  merchant 
princes,  the  solid  men  of  every  walk  in  life,  in  short, 
rally  to  its  defence  when  it  is  in  danger.  How  many,  it 
would  be  well  to  inquire,  of  the  sixteen  hundred 
houses  owned  by  a  single  person  in  this  city,  are  occu- 
pied by  prostitution,  many  of  them  of  the  lowest 
grade  ?  Would  the  extreme  smallness  of  his  income 
be  considered  an  excuse  for  devoting  his  houses  to  so 
vile  a  purpose  ?  It  must  be  soothing  to  tins  poverty- 
stricken  man  of  a  hundred  millions,  to  feel  that  he 
eats  daily,  not  the  bread  of  idle  men,  for  he  belongs 
to  an  industrious  stock,  but  the  fruit  of  prostitution. 
Should  a  tenant  ask  the  priviledge  of  starting  any- 
thing extra  hazardous  in  any  of  them  he,  would  be 
denied  the  boon,  or  turned  into  the  street;  but 
"  Madame  "  goes  to  him,  with  the  extra  rent  in  her 
hand,  and  the  bargain  is  consummated  without  even  a 
thought  of  the  character  of  its  contents  to  be  stowed 
away  in  the  building  she  appropriates  to  her  vile  trade. 
So  too  the  church  must  shoulder  its  share  of  responsi- 
bility for  the  crime. 

We  knew,  not  many  years  ago,  a  deacon  of  the  late 
venerable  Dr.  Spring's  church  on  Fifth  Avenue,  who 
was  called  upon  by  one  of  the  most  wealthy,  but  no- 
torious, brothel  keepers  in  this  city,  to  purchase  a 
house  in  a  fashionable  neighborhood,  and  of  which  he 
was  the  owner  in  fee.  The  use  to  which  the  house 
was  to  be  appropriated  he  well  knew,  and  he  was  glad 
of  the  opportunity  to  sell  it  to  her  at  an  exorbitant 
price,  but  before  closing  the  bargain,  and  Adth  the 
shrewdness  of  a  true  deacon,  he  consulted  the  law 
firm  of  Messrs.  Brown,  Hall  &  Yanderpool,  to  know 
if  an}-  legal  disability  stood  in  the  way  of  such  trana- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


49 


fer  for  such  a  purpose.  The  moral  question  he  did  not 
take  into  account :  we  suppose  he  settled  that  part  of 
it  with  his  conscience,  when  he  cut  off  a  small  modi- 
cum of  the  price  to  send  to  the  poor  heathen  in  tracts 
against  the  deep  damning  sin  of  prostitution. 

This  embodiment  of  cant  and  hypocrisy  still  passes 
the  contribution  box  in  his  church,  we  presume,  and 
exhales  for  the  delectation  of  this  aristocratic  congre- 
gation, a  saintly  aroma  that  is  altogether  pleasant  to 
the  pious  olfactories  of  his  brethren  and  sisters.  We 
single  out  this  man  as  a  representative  of  a  large  class 
in  the  Church,  to  its  shame  be  it  said,  a  class  by  no 
means  inconsiderable  in  numbers  or  influence.  That 
such  as  these  buy  out  the  law,  and  put  Christianity, 
decency  even,  at  defiance,  without  loss  of  caste 
or  position,  is  too  true  ;  but  some  day  or  other,  not 
far  distant,  they  will  be  called  to  appear  at  a  tribunal, 
the  judge  of  which  they  will  not  be  able  to  purchase, 
and  who  will  prove  inexorable  in  his  judgments.  How 
many  members  of  the  "  Brick  Church  "  knew  of  the 
deacon's  practice  and  character,  and  did  not  choose  to 
show  him  up  in  his  true  colors,  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing,  but  that  he  was  well  known  to  be  just  what 
he  is,  to  at  least  a  few  of  them,  cannot  be  doubted. 

How  far  above  the  prostitute  in  morality  and  real 
purity  of  character,  was  this  deacon?  No  wonder 
then  that  prostitution  rears  its  dens  of  pollution  where 
it  chooses,  for  it  lies  intrenched  behind  the  wealth,  the 
piety,  the  morality,  and  the  respectability  of  this  city  ; 
and  each  of  these  classes  shares  with  the  gambler,  the 
drunkard,  the  roue,  and  the  whole  brood  of  adulterers 
and  fornicators  the  responsibility  that  attaches  to  its 
existence,  and  are  in  a  very  large  sense  to  be  held 
particej)s  criminis. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HOUSES  OF  ASSIGNATION. — WHO  PATRONISE  THEM? 

The  house  of  assignation  is  the  home  of  private 
prostitution,  but  it  is  not  true,  as  has  been  alleged 
again  and  again,  that  the  open  houses  diminish  as  the 
others  increase ;  the  truth  seems  to  be  that  these 
places  of  assignment  measure  the  fearful  increase  of 
the  evil  without  sensibly  decreasing  the  number  of 
public  houses.  The  theory,  too,  that  the  parlor 
houses  will  in  time  give  way  to  the  latter,  is  equally 
without  foundation ;  in  fact,  there  is  but  one  infer- 
ence to  be  drawn.  Prostitution  has  penetrated  the 
very  heart  of  our  domestic  life,  and  what  is  worse, 
attacks  it  almost  unseen.  Were  this  crime  an  open 
one,  it  would  be  robbed  of  half  its  enormity,  because 
it  could  then  be  dealt  with  by  throwing  around  it  the 
law  of  social  excommunication.  Unfortunately  it  is 
of  necessity  sub  rosa,  not  a  fragrant  one,  it  is  true,  but 
one  containing  a  deadly  blight. 

The  women,  many  of  them,  who  know  personally 
these  haunts,  go  from  our  own  firesides.  Many  have 
been  reared  amidst  pleasant,  even  cultivated  associa- 
tion?. The  causes  that  lead  to  this  phase  of  the  base 
business  are  various,  but  chiefly  these — a  passion  for 
dress  and  finery,  a  life  free  from  care  or  labor,  and  our 
defective  system  of  female  education.  To  secure  these, 
comfort,  self-respect,  virtue  itself,  are  willingly  sur- 
rendered in  exchange.  To  be  able  to  live  in  a  flashy 
way  in  the  fourth  story  cf  a  cheap  hotel,  thousands  of 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


51 


women  from  plain  but  comfortable  homes,  sacrifice 
themselves  every  year  by  either  marrying  men  of 
doubtful  reputation,  and  with  no  means  of  honest  sup- 
port, or  failing  in  this  will  remain  at  home,  and  clothe 
themselves  with  the  wages  of  sin  through  the  medium  of 
the  house  of  assignation.  A  class  still  lower  than  this 
fly  from  poverty  and  want  to  lives  of  shame.  Others 
again  have  met  ruin,  at  an  early  age,  and  dreading  the 
consequences  of  their  sin,  rush  to  prostitution  as  the 
only  way  left  open  for  support.  There  are  others  still 
who  enter  this  mode  of  life  for  the  excitement  it  yields. 
The  hard  palpable  fact  that  meets  us  at  every  step  is, 
that  lewdness,  under  cover  of  assignation,  dwells  un- 
noticed in  a  thousand  homes  where  innocence  alone  is 
supposed  to  dwell. 

The  fearful  increase  of  prostitution,  private  and 
public,  during  and  since  the  war,  showed  its  power  to 
destroy  virtue  to  be  second  only  to  its  power  to  des- 
troy life.  During  the  five  years  of  its  progress,  pas- 
sion stalked  unchecked  through  the  land ;  and  when  its 
shadow  was  lifted,  there  was  still  left  to  us  as  a  legacy, 
the  darker  shadow  of  social  and  domestic  demoraliza- 
tion. It  unsettled  in  a  few  brief  years  the  foundation 
upon  which  our  national  life  rested.  So  true  is  this, 
that  the  simple  habits  and  manners  once  a  heritage 
with  us  as  a  people,  have  now  become  traditional. 

The  war,  with  the  excitement  it  brought,  the  pas- 
sions and  ambitions  it  aroused,  opened  up  to  millions  of 
quiet  people,  in  a  social  and  business  way,  opportunities 
never  dreamed  of  before.  At  one  mad  bound  the  nation 
cut  loose  from  the  past  and  set  out  to  make  a  new  history, 
and  in  making  it,  soon  learned  to  despise  the  simple 
manners  and  habits  of  the  past.  Money  could  be 
picked  up  anywhere,  and  from  the  lowest  rounds  of 


52 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


the  BOcial  ladder  to  the  very  top,  all  the  excesses  and 
follies  bora  of  a  cheap  currency,  easily  acquired,  came 
down  upon  us  like  an  earthquake.  Contact,  which 
before  the  war  had  been  quiet  and  civil,  changed  in 
an  instant  to  the  most  intense  activity  in  every  direc- 
tion. Speculation  ran  rife,  new  enterprises  were  set  in 
motion  and  rushed  through  with  the  most  daring  im- 
petuosity. How  the  bills  should  ultimately  be  paid 
for  all  these,  together  with  the  extravagant  living  that 
came  along  as  a  consequence,  did  not  for  the  moment 
occur  to  us. 

The  nation  had  cut  loose  from  its  old  moorings  in  a 
moment  of  frenzy,  and  the  old  ship  of  state  that 
sailed  so  many  years  on  a  prosperous  sea,  now  found 
herself  far  from  the  shore  on  an  untried  sea,  in  the 
midst  of  a  storm  that  threatened  its  destruction.  The 
sky  cleared  finally,  but  the  lessons  learned  during  the 
struggle  were  not  heeded.  Inflation  was  everywhere. 
There  was  nothing  that  had  any  bottom  to  it.  We 
were  literally  rocked  to  sleep  upon  an  ocean  of  rags, 
in  the  way  of  money,  and,  what  is  most  wonderful  to 
relate,  now,  with  nearly  ten  years  behind  ns  since  the 
war-cloud  was  dispelled,  we  find  ourselves  sailing  upon 
the  same  uncertain  sea.  To-day  we  lie  prostrate  at 
the  feet  of  this  moloch  of  war.  Business  is  nowhere, 
corruption  everywhere,  from  the  sole  leather  pie  ven- 
der on  the  street  to  the  capital  of  the  nation.  We 
have  at  last  touched  bottom,  and  have  stopped  for  a 
moment  to  take  breath,  and  during  this  breathing 
spell  we  have  looked  about  us  only  to  find  that  the 
demon  of  demoralization  holds  us  in  his  firm  grasp. 

Political  corruption  is  now  the  rule,  and  the  tone  of 
our  whole  national  life  has  become  so  low  that  no 
hope  can  come  from  that  quarter  until  the  people  them- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


53 


selves  go  back  to  first  principles  and  begin  life  anew. 
What  wonder  that  amid  all  this  confusion,  this  mad 
capering  in  search  of  wealth,  and  ease,  and  luxury, 
that  innocence  and  virtue  should  be  sacrified  to  a  new 
mode  of  life  that  still  threatens  to  lead  the  nation  to 
destruction  ?  How  many  millions  of  us  suffer  to-day 
from  the  new  possibilities  in  the  way  of  living  that  the  war 
made  apparent  ?  Could  we  have  felt  then  as  we  now 
know,  to  our  cost,  that  the  family  of  a  man  with  an 
income  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  a  year  cannot  be 
supported  in  the  same  style  of  that  with  three  times 
that  sum,  many  of  our  present  ills  would  have  been 
avoided ;  and  from  this  simple  illustration  we  are  led 
to  see  that  the  saddest  feature  of  our  overstrained 
American  life  at  this  moment,  is  that  which  consigns 
the  thin,  over-worked,  prematurely-old  mother  to  the 
kitchen,  while  the  soft-handed  daughter,  clad  in  cheap 
finery,  lounges  in  the  parlor,  and  plays,  in  a  very 
tragic  way,  the  fine  lady.  What  sight  more  sad,  or 
more  provoking,  than  to  witness  a  half-educated  girl 
knock  a  wheezy  piano  into  spasms,  to  amuse  the  sweet- 
scented  idiot  that  bends  over  her,  and  who  will  soon 
take  her  to  himself,  not  for  life,  but  until  sentiment 
has  vanished  and  the  new  establishment  is  left  without 
a  leg  to  stand  upon. 

False  education,  false  pride,  and  a  false  estimate  of 
life's  real  worth,  and  the  comforts  that  properly  ap- 
preciated, make  home  a  resting  place  for  all  that  is 
pure  and  noble,  have  at  last  done  the  business  for  us, 
and  now  we  begin  to  see  that  madness  only  lies  in  that 
direction,  and  that  if  we  would  retrieve  the  past,  we 
must  retrace  courageously,  the  path  that  leads  through 
the  past  fifteen  years  of  our  national  life.  What  won- 
der that  houses  of  assignation  should  be  multiplying 


Prostitution  i?i  X<vj 


with  as  at  a  rate  so  appalling  that  public  sentiment, 
low  as  is  its  tone,  is  shocked  by  it?  Does  any  one 
doubt  that  this  social  and  domestic  pandemonium 
which  we  have  gone  to  work  deliberately  to  create  for 
ourselves,  is  not  the  seed  that  lias  produced  this  poi- 
sonous weed  of  private  prostitution  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  ARGUMENT  OF  THE  PROSTITUTE. 

I  had  occasion  a  few  months  since  to  accompany  an 
officer  of  the  police  in  making  an  arrest  of  a  woman 
keeping  a  house  of  ill  fame  on  Greene  street,  near 
Houston.  As  we  entered  the  spacious  and  flashily  fur- 
nished parlors,  a  face  attracted  my  attention,  and  for 
the  moment  riveted  it.    It  proved  to  be  that  of  a 

woman  whose  father  I  had  known  at  P  ,  on  the 

Hudson,  many  years  ago.  Though  somewhat  used  to 
the  painful  scenes  and  sights  that  cling  to  the  darker 
side  of  life  in  a  city  like  this,  the  appearance  of  a 
woman  of  good  family,  of  still  better  education  and 
surroundings,  for  a  moment  startled  me.  A  single 
look  at  her  features  told  the  whole  sad  story. 

She  had  never  been  a  handsome  or  attractive  wo- 
man, but  yet  not  positively  ugly,  so  that  the  meeting 
had  nothing  in  it  of  romance.  She  had  been  at  home 
known  as  a  self-willed  girl,  of  good  abilities,  and  well 
able  to  take  care  of  herself  and  disposed  to  do  it  on 
all  occasions,  qualities  which  did  not  render  her  a  fa- 
vorite with  the  namby-pamby  youngsters  of  her  neigh- 
borhood. Nevertheless,  here,  before  my  eyes,  seated 
at  a  table  with  a  greasy  novel  in  her  hand,  and  in  a 

house  of  prostitution,  sat  the  once  haughty  Miss  . 

Another  glance  showed  me  the  ravages  her  way  of  life 
had  made  in  a  face  that  never  had  beauty  to  recom- 
mend it.  In  it  was  concentrated  an  amount  of  ugliness 
that  I  have  rarely  seen  in  any  other  before.   It  seemed 


.v. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


as  it'  an  evil  and  malignant  passion  had  left  its  im- 
press  there  by  petrefaction — her  face  was  one  of  stone. 
Over  all  hatred  sat  supreme.  I  approached  the  table 
i  n  which  she  leaned,  and  looking  at  her  full  in  the 

face,  asked  her  if  she  knew  Dr.  S  .    A  gleam  of 

sunlight  shot  across  her  repulsive  features  that  for  a 
moment  rendered  her  face  by  contrast  almost  saintly 
in  its  expression.  A  single  echo  from  the  dead  past 
had  lured  her  into  self-forgetfulncss. 

"  5Tes,"  said  she  suddenly,  "he  was  my  father.  Did 
3'ou  know  him  V 

"  Quite  well,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  pray  what  brought 
you  here?"  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  the 
old  ugliness  resumed  itself  in  her  transformed  face  and 
manner.    She  said  : 

u  Pride,  false,  mean  pride,  brought  me  to  this  horri- 
ble place.    u  You  knew  my  father?"  she  said. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  my  sisters  ?" 

"  Only  as  I  knew  you  upon  the  street.  I  had  no  ac- 
quaintance with  any  of  your  family  but  your  father, 
whom  I  knew  professionally." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  getting  up  from  her  chair, <  and 
straightening  to  her  full  height:  and  she  had  still  a 
handsome  figure,  and  a  touch  left  in  it  of  her  old,  dig- 
nified, cold  way  that  had  made  her  early  youth  unat- 
tractive, "  it  is  an  old  story,  but  brief." 

"  My  father,  as  you  probably  know,  died  in  185-. 
His  profession  had  never  yielded  a  large  income,  but 
one  which,  with  economy,  was  sufficient  for  all  our 
real  needs.  He  left  us  nothing  but  the  legacy  of  a 
good  name,  (a  heritage  I  have  parted  with  forever,  you 
Bee,)  and  a  good  example." 

As  the  old  memories  came  thick  and  fast,  she  hesi- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


tated  a  moment,  but  with  a  will  still  unbroken,  ban- 
ished all  by  a  single  effort,  and  continued, 

"  We  bad  a  comfortable  home,  and  my  father's  edu- 
cation and  tastes,  added  to  brilliant  powers  of  conver- 
sation, gave  us  all  easy  access  to  the  very  best  people 
of  our  little  city.  But  we  had  not  been  taught  to  rely 
upon  ourselves,  and  never  once  dreamed  even  that 
misfortune  could  overtake  us,  until  the  event  came 
that  robbed  us  of  our  best  friend.  Of  course  we  were 
paralyzed  with  grief  when  the  terrible  revelation  of  our 
destitution  and  helplessness  came,  while  I,  the  one 
that  was  thought  to  be  the  most  self-reliant  of  our 
family,  gave  way  at  the  first  touch  of  misfortune,  and 
cursed  the  hour  that  I  was  born. 

"  My  older  sisters  opened  a  school,  and  gathered 
about  them  a  sufficient  number  of  pupils  to  keep  the 
wolf  of  want  from  the  door.  I  had  been  carefully 
educated,  as  had  they,  but  at  the  close  of  the  first 
year  I  found  myself  disgusted  with  the  routine  of  my 
^new  life,  quarreled  with  my  sisters,  and  left,  in  a  fit 
of  anger,  the  old  home  and  all  in  it,  to  try  a  new  life 
on  my  own  account.  Coining  to  this  city,  I  stopped 
for  a  few  days  at  the  house  of  a  distant  relative,  and 
while  there  I  exhausted  every  means  in  my  possession 
in  an  honest  effort  to  obtain  a  place  as  governess,  or 
in  a  school.  Failing  in  this,  and  almost  wholly  desti- 
tute of  the  attractions  that  win  attention  in  such  a 
place  as  this,  I  gave  myself  up  voluntarily  to  the  life 
I  am  living." 

I  suggested  that  there  was  still  hope  for  a  woman 
of  her  years  and  ability,  that  she  had  still  health  and 
education  to  help  her  on.  In  a  moment,  the  old  stony 
stare  was  resumed,  and  with  that  perfect  comprehen- 
sion of  women,  which  only  a  thorough  woman  of  the 


58 


Prostitution  in  Xtio  York. 


world  ever  acquires,  she  summed  up  the  case  in  a  way 
that  carried  conviction, 

"  EIow  stupid  and  one-sided,  not  to  say  unjust,  you 
nu  n  arc-  in  your  judgment  of  women  who  live  as  these 
creatures  you  see  here  live,  and  as  /  shall  live  so  long 
as  Life  remains.  You,  or  such  as  you,  come  here,  and, 
as  voluntarily  as  we,  become  partners  in  the  perpetua- 
tion of  a  disgusting  crime. 

**  Y..u  consummate  it,  and  then  go  back  unsullied 
in  looks  and  manner  to  society  ;  and  society,  in  a  proud 
consciousness  of  its  own  purity,  receives  you  with 
open  arms.  What  would  society  say  were  i  stupid 
enough  to  knock  for  re-admission  to  its  hearths  and 
homes  ?  It  would  lift  its  nose  high  in  air,  put  on  its 
most  virtuous  frown  of  indignation,  and  slam  its  aris 
tocratic  door  in  my  face.  I  answer  it  as  I  answer  you, 
with  scorn  for  scorn.  The  woman  who  enters  this,  or 
any  similar  den,  if  she  has  left  in  her  any  feeling, 
however  faint,  of  self-respect,  or  a  sense  of  her  true 
position,  knows  full  well  that  it,  or  some  fouler  one,  is 
to  claim  her  for  life.  The  haunt  of  shame,  for  such 
it  is,  into  which  we  go,  voluntarily,  or  for  any  other 
reason,  closes  its  ponderous  doors  upon  us,  never  to  be 
re-opened  but  once  ;  when  we  pass  out  to  enter  those 
that  lead  to  the  eharnel  house,  to  the  dark,  oh,  how 
dark,  valley  beyond.  The  body  damned  by  prostitu- 
tion, is  damned  forever  ;  and  what  is  worse,  the  soul, 
or  what  is  left  of  it,  shares  the  fate  of  the  body. 

"  Do  you  like  the  picture  ?  if  you  do,  contemplate 
it  at  your  leisure  :  and  if  you  are  human,  as  I  suppose 
you  are,  you  will  have  in  it  ample  material  for  reflec- 
tion." 

During  this  interview  \\ev  whole  manner  and  ex- 
pression had  so  changed  that  I  had  forgotten  entirely 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


59 


wHat  manner  of  woman  she  was.  Her  tone,  her  em- 
phasis, her  undoubted  sincerity,  all  convinced  me  that 
prostitution,  for  once,  had  won  to  itself  a  shining  vic- 
tim, and  she  stood  as  a  type  of  many  others  I  have 
seen,  though  none  with  the  amount  of  brain-power  that 
she  possessed.  Observing  what  was  passing  in  my 
mind,  she  continued,  with  bitterness, 

"  My  family  have  left  nothing  undone  that  they  be- 
lieved would  break  this  terrible  spell,  but,  though  I 
had  not  been  here  long  enough,  as  you  see,  to  loose  all 
sense  of  decency,  or  to  have  parted  with  the  only  ten- 
der thing  left  me,  the  memory  of  my  other  and  purer 
self,  that  which  my  girlhood  knew,  I  am  still  spell- 
bound, chained,  body  and  soul,  to  a  way  of  life — death, 
I  should  have  said — that  I  could  not  leave  it  if  I 
would. 

"  No,  nothing  on  earth,  not  the  hope  of  heaven  even, 
could  induce  me  to  go  back  to  my  old  life  of  inno- 
cence. There  is  no  such  thing  as  innocence  for  me, 
there  is  nothing  for  me  but  blank  despair,  and  I  have 
accepted  the  situation. 

"  Men  are  differently  constituted.  They  commit  the 
vilest  sins  against  their  own  and  the  innocence  of 
others,  I  mean  the  victims  of  their  hellish  lusts,  with- 
out a  pang  of  remorse ;  without  knowing  indeed  that 
they  have  committed  a  wrong  that  is  fouler  than  mur- 
der itself.  It  is  the  difference,  if  you  will  pardon  me, 
between  extreme  sensibility  and  that  which  knows  not 
from  experience  what  remorse  or  even  sensibility  is, 
nevertheless,  men  are  just  as  God  made  them,  and  his 
purpose  in  such  a  creation  is  altogether  inscrutible,  at 
least  to  me. 

"  But,  I  repeat,  nothing  on  earth  could  tempt  me  to 
fly  from  the  consequences  of  this  curse.    I  court  the 


Pioatitution  in  Xew  Yoik. 


penalty,  for  I  have  richly  deserved  it.  I  am  going 
down  the  hill  step  by  step.  I  sometimes  flatter  my- 
self with  the  feeling  that  I  shall  not  reach  the  lowest 
phases  which  this  horrible  life  presents,  but  my 
descent  to  its  lowest  depths  is  certain.  I  may  be  a 
little  longer  in  going,  but  I  shall  never  add  drunken- 
ness  to  prostitution,  and  I  shall  get  there  at  last.  I  do 
not  mingle  with  the  creatures  that  gather  in  these 
rooms  at  night,  and  do  you  know  that  I  get  a  kind  of 
pleasure  in  feeling  that  I  shall  lead  my  solitary  way 
alone,  and  that  when  the  last  plunge  is  made,  it  will 
be  made  with  the  full  belief,  seconded  by  the  hope, 
that  absolute  and  complete  annihilation  awaits  me. 
Could  I  be  certain  of  this,  there  would  still  be  left  for 
me  an  occasional  gleam  of  happiness — yes,  happiness, 
a  numb  sort  of  thrill,  such  as  the  hopeless  paralytic  is 
sometimes  said  to  feel  through  some  sudden  movement 
of  nerves  long  since  dead  to  sensation. 

"  To  go  back  to  life,  and  to  be  confronted  with  vir- 
tue and  scorn  side  by  side,  would  kill  me.  The  sight 
of  virtue  is  hateful  to  me.  But  let  us  drop  a  painful 
subject,  and  let  me  ask  what  brings  you  to  such  a  place 
as  this  in  mid-day?" 

I  explained  the  object  of  my  visit,  at  which  she 
apologised  for  the  pointed  manner  in  which  she  had 
criticised  my  sex.  She  had  concluded  at  first  sight 
that  my  purpose  was  a  lewd  one.  I  have  met  many 
similar  cases  in  houses  of  this  sort,  but  none  in  which 
the  victim  cherished  so  vivid  a  remembrance  of  what 
Bhe  once  was,  or  who  realized  so  fully  the  awful  con- 
sequences  of  the  step  which  she  had  taken;  and  as  I 
left  the  hated  place,  I  felt  that  I  carried  with  me,  from 
tli  is  gifted  woman,  all  that  could  be  uttered  by  human 
tongue  against  the  crime  of  prostitution. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


HOW  PROSTITUTION  SECURES  ITS  VICTIMS. 

During  twenty  years  of  observation  in  a  professional 
way,  much  of  it  extending  to  the  better  class  of  houses 
of  ill  fame  in  this  city,  I  have  known  actually  of  but 
a  single  instance  wherein  the  victim,  once  thoroughly 
initiated  in  the  business  of  prostitution,  ever  returned 
to  a  virtuous  life.  Of  course  it  is  to  be  understood 
that  I  have  not  sought  for  statistics  in  this  direction,  I 
only  record  what  has  come  to  my  knowledge  incident- 
ally, as  collateral  facts,  gathered  chiefly  because  I  have 
been,  unlike  most  of  those  of  my  profession,  really  in- 
terested in  the  welfare  of  these  unfortunates,  and  not 
only  interested,  but  curious  to  know  what  are  the  real 
springs  that  feed  this  great  ocean  of  lewdness  which 
now  threatens  to  engulph  us. 

As  1  have  gone  along  my  way,  familiar  with  crime 
in  all  its  phases  in  this  and  other  cities  contiguous  to 
it,  I  have  noted  for  future  use  whatever  seemed  outre 
in  crime,  so  to  speak  ;  those  idiosyncracies  of  crime 
that  compel  one  to  stop  and  take  them  in  whether  he 
will  or  not.  Strange  thougb  it  may  appear,  there  is 
no  profession  that  presents  so  many  opportunities  for 
getting  right  down  to  the  curious  and  the  amazing  in 
human  weakness,  as  does  that  of  the  detective.  If  he 
be  intelligent,  and  inclined  to  draw  conclusions  from 
the  facts  that  range  themselves  in  order  in  his  expe- 
rience, each  year's  going  about  furnishes  material  for 
a  volume  that  would  be  read  with  avidity,  even  if  it 


62 


Prostitution  in  Sew  York. 


recorded  nothing  beyond  the  naked  facts  gathered. 
Bui  when  to  these  are  given  the  circumstances  that 
go  to  make  up  the  romance  of  crime,  related  with  ac- 
curacy as  to  details  and  surroundings,  and  the  lessons 
they  teach,  the  field,  to  him  that  delves  in  it,  is  one 
of  an  intensity  of  interest  that  cannot  be  described. 

Of  such  a  nature  is  crime,  and  the  motives  and  im- 
pulses that  give  it  birth  and  make  it  possible,  noth- 
ing is  needed  to  give  it  interest  but  to  tell  the  story  of 
it  without  exaggeration,  and  with  no  other  coloring 
than  the  hues  derived  from  the  objects  themselves, 
and,  it  is  safe  to  say,  that  in  the  whole  catalogue  of 
crime,  and  especially  those  that  deal  with  the  passion 
of  lust,  none  can  be  made,  if  the  writer  so  choose, 
to  convey  a  healthier  moral  than  that  of  prostitution. 
To  such  a  one,  thoroughly  posted  in  the  way  our 
better-class  houses  of  ill  fame  are  furnished  with  fresh 
victims,  a  volume  could  be  made  that  would  amaze 
even  the  most  apathetic  and  indifferent  of  readers. 
Hitherto  our  intense  squeamishness  has  not  allowed 
us  to  record  to  any  extent  anything  like  an  accurate 
picture  of  the  lives  these  poor  creatures  lead,  and 
had  it  been  done  by  judicious  hands  years  ago,  the 
damning  business  that  rears  its  gilded  manufactories 
under  the  very  eaves  of  our  most  influential  and 
wealthy  churches,  would  not  have  gone  on  as  it  has 
with  no  hand  uplifted  to  check  its  ravages.  Our 
own  treatment  of  it  in  these  chapters  has  been  in 
the  most  desultory  way. 

We  have  photographed,  as  they  passed,  some  of 
the  lighter  shadows  only,  as  they  have  appeared  to 
us  from  a  stand-point,  the  correctness  of  which  none 
will  dispute,  and  for  the  one  sole  purpose  of  making 
this  enormity  apparent  to  all  classes  of  people.  The 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


03 


time  must  go  by,  and  speedily,  when  we  can  with 
safety  refuse  any  longer  to  look  at  this  evil  as  it  is  ; 
to  strip  from  it  its  couleur  de  rose,  and  attack  it  in  its 
stronghold  of  private  prostitution.  If  we  will  but 
make  ourselves  alone  intelligent  as  to  the  means  em- 
ployed to  supply  lusty  wealth  with  objects  of  pas- 
sionate gratification,  the  chapter  will  be  ugly  enough 
in  its  details  to  arouse  an  interest  not  yet  sensibly  felt 
for  its  amelioration. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


ANOTHER  VICTIM. 

In  the  little  town  of  L  ,  in  Massachusetts,  in 

which  I  was  bom,  and  which  I  did  not  quit  until 
I  had  reached  my  majority,  lived  a  family  which,  in 
my  early  life,  were  among  my  most  cherished  friends. 
The  father  of  it  and  my  own  had  been  boys  together, 

and  each  after  marriage  settled  in  L  .    To  cement 

more  closely  a  friendship  so  early  formed,  the  two  pur- 
chased a  bit  of  ground,  built  two  cottages  just  alike, 
and  turned  up  a  penny  for  the  choice  after  they  were 
finished.  Our  lawns  ran  into  one  without  that  odious 
dividing  line  of  a  fence,  so  that  in  all  social  respects 
we  were  literally  one  family. 

While  I  was  yet  a  boy,  my  father's  friend  died, 
leaving  a  widow  and  four  daughters,  the  eldest  of 
whom,  and  the  strange  sad  fate  that  was  hers,  will 
form  the  subject  of  this  chapter.  She  was,  at  the 
period  of  which  I  speak,  a  girl  of  about  eighteen 
years,  and  singularly  beautiful  in  face  and  figure. 
Her  beauty  was  not  of  that  every -day  type,  made  up 
of  regular  features  without  any  well  defined  expres- 
sion, always  so  pleasing,  never  striking,  but  of  a  sort 
that  would  command  instant  attention,  no  matter  how 
numerously  or  brilliantly  surrounded.  To  the  casual 
observer  there  was  noticeable  a  sly  reserve  that  seemed 
born  of  native  modesty  and  timidity,  but  to  the  eyes 
of  one  accustomed  to  look  deeper  into  faces,  it  was  not 


The  Way  Victims   are  Obtained. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


65 


difficult  to  see  that  the  look  half  concealed  a  morbid 
self  estimation  that  was  all  absorbing,  and  which  gave 
to  her  features  an  expression  of  hauteur  not  at  all 
pleasant  to  contemplate.  Despite  all  this,  her  face, 
with  its  strange  blending  of  tenderness  and  disdain, 
while  it  did  not  inspire  affection  or  confidence,  chal- 
lenged the  deepest  respect,  and  there  was  in  it  besides 
the  same  indication  of  a  temper,  at  once  impetuous 
and  willful.  Even  we  younger  ones  knew  her  as  a  con- 
summate actress.  She  possessed  that  rare,  and  we 
will  add,  disagreeable  power  of  ''fixing  things"  be- 
forehand. Nothing  with  her  was  spontaneous.  All 
she  did  was  done  with  an  eye  to  results  that  would 
be  satisfactory  to  her  own  supreme  selfish  self. 

"Was  there  an  out-of-door  party,  or  pic-nic,  she  ar- 
ranged it  with  a  niceness  of  detail  that  was  amazing 
to  us  careless  little  things  bent  on  a  day's  pleasure, 
and  caring  for  nothing  else ;  and  so  we  had  our  own 
fun  in  spite  of  her,  while  she  was  supremely  blest  to 
stand  the  central  figure  in  our  frolic,  in  a  kind  of  self- 
admiration  at  the  work  she  had  accomplished.  And 
yet  this  woman,  bo  impassive  and  so  cold,  could, 
when  she  chose,  and  with  a  power  that  no  one  of 
us  even  thought  of  contesting  in  those  years,  attract 
to  herself,  though  few  in  number,  all  the  sentimental, 
shy  boys  of  the  neighborhood.  While  we  noisy 
ones  revolved  around  her,  at  a  safe  distance  from 
her  wiles,  these  little  flies  walked  straight  to  her 
subtle  net- work  of  fascination.  She  had  but  few 
favorites,  of  course,  and  from  these  she  exacted  an 
homage  that  was  subservient  to  humiliation.  She 
took  part  very  rarely  in  any  of  our  pleasures,  and  was 
never  seen  to  dance.  A  shuffle  was  altogether  too 
much  for  her  dignity.    It  would  have  ruined  her  self- 


00 


Prostitution  in  New  York* 


respect,  and  degraded  her  at  once  to  the  level  of  com- 
mon mortals. 

But  though  all  were  kept  at  arm's  length,  each  was 
compelled  to  pay  a  certain  sort  of  homage,  on  pain 
of  instant  banishment.  One  look  of  anger  was  like 
the  shot  of  an  experienced  marksman,  it  was  sure  to 
bring  down  its  game.  And  yet,  if  the  truth  must  be 
told,  we  could  not  have  got  on  without  her,  but  we 
did  not  love  her,  nevertheless.  Could  we  children 
have  known  then  the  terrible  fate  that  awaited  her, 
how  trifling  would  have  seemed  all  these  peculiarities 
that  in  those  days  were  so  trying  to  us. 

"With  an  instinct  that  proved  better  than  wisdom — 
(is  not  instinct  the  highest  wisdom  ?)  I  declined  al- 
ways to  bow  down  to  this  divinity,  and  she  in  turn 
rewarded  me  with  her  hatred,  though  I  knew  it  not 
until  years  afterward,  as  the  sequel  will  show.  One 
morning  L  was  thrown  into  a  spasm  of  excite- 
ment, as  gossiping  country  villages  always  are  upon 
any  unusual  happening.  Alice — the  model  in  dignity 
of  deportment,  and  the  irresistible  in  her  power  to 
charm,  when  she  chose  to  let  herself  down  from  her 
self-erected  pedestal — had  suddenly  disappeared.  All 
search  for  her  proved  fruitless,  and  at  the  end  of  three 
years  she  was  given  up  as  one  dead.  Our  village  set- 
tled down  into  its  old  rut,  and  soon  afterwards  I  was 
myself  seized  with  a  sudden  desire  to  see  the  " sights" 
and  out-of-the-way  places  of  this  great  city,  and  to  see 
them  through  the  eye  of  a  detective.  The  resolve 
f»nned,  I  proceeded  at  once  to  put  it  into  execution. 
Through  the  kindness  of  an  influential  friend  of  my 
family,  still  living  in  this  city,  I  was  permitted  to  enter 
upon  my  chosen  field  of  labor,  under  the  most  favor- 
able auspices. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


67 


In  the  month  of  May,  186 — ,  the  body  of  a  woman 
well  known  in  fashionable  circles  in  this  city,  where 
she  was  born  and  reared,  and  at  the  fashionable  water- 
ing places,  where  she  bad  been  distinguished  for  her 
beauty  and  her  accomplishments,  was  found  floating 
in  the  East  River,  near  Blackwell's  Island.  An  ex- 
amination of  the  body  revealed  the  fact  that  the  case 
was  not  one  of  suicide,  as  at  first  supposed  from  cer- 
tain circumstances  connected  with  her  married  life, 
but  of  murder.  As  was  quite  natural,  all  fashionable 
Kew  York  was  in  a  quiver  of  excitement.  The  lady- 
had  married  but  a  few  years  before  a  business  man  of 
large  wealth,  and  possessed  beside  a  handsome  proper- 
ty in  her  own  right.  The  husband,  a  man  of  fine  man- 
ners, but  given  wholly  to  pleasure,  surrounded  her 
with  all  that  could  make  home  happy,  except  the  one 
thing  indispensable  to  a  true  woman's  happiness,  affec- 
tion, and  delicate  attention.  These  he  lavished  on 
others,  and  left  his  wife  to  look  after  the  establish- 
ment in  which  he  now  and  then  condescended  to  live. 
I  was  present  at  the  coroner's  inquest,  having  been 
detailed  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  in  working  up  the 
case.  The  verdict  was  the  usual  one  in  such  cases,  of 
<;  murder  at  the  hands  of  some  person  or  persons  un- 
known to  the  jury." 

It  was  my  first  case,  and  I  was  wrought  up  to  a 
pitch  of  nervous  excitement  that  almost  alarmed  me. 
I  grew  cooler  as  the  years  sped  on,  during  which 
crime  and  criminals  occupied  most  of  my  attention. 
I  have  passed  through  much  that  was  exciting,  appall- 
ing even,  since  then,  but  I  had  premonitions  as  to  the 
developments  in  this  case  that  affected  me  strangely, 
and  which  I  could  not  explain  to  my  satisfaction.  Ex- 
pectation was  wrought  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  I  felt 


63 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


assured  that  in  working  it  up,  some  person  that  I  had 
known  would  figure  in  it  conspicuously.  Nothing 
occurred  during  the  brief  investigation  by  the  Coroner 
to  give  the  slightest  clue  to  the  murderer,  and  I  ex- 
perienced the  disappointment  that  naturally  comes  to 
the  novice  in  our  profession  in  his  first  crude  at- 
tempt to  ferret  out  crime,  and  assist  in  bringing  those 
who  commit  it  to  merited  punishment. 

The  dress,  the  face,  the  appearance  of  the  body, 
showed  the  person  to  have  been  one  of  high  social 
distinction.  I  have  always  been  a  natural  student  of 
faces,  and  my  experience  as  a  detective  has  so  sharp- 
ened my  observation  in  this  direction,  that  I  fancy,  at 
least,  that  every  human  face  has  in  it  a  something  in 
the  way  of  expression  that  forms  a  true  index  to  the 
individual  character,  and  experience  has  demonstrated, 
in  my  own  case,  that  faces  warped  and  distorted  by 
passion  are  wholly  changed  through  the  influence  of 
misfortune  or  deep  grief,  while  still  they  retain  the  facial 
expression  that  reveals  the  original  character.  In  the  face 
before  me  there  still  lingered  an  expression  of  brood- 
ing melancholy  that  was  painful  to  behold,  and  the 
more  I  gazed  upon  the  form,  now  so  still  in  death, 
and  upon  a  face  that  was  still  sweetness  in  itself,  the 
more  intense  was  my  desire  to  know  who  was  the  mur- 
derer. 

The  investigation  over,  the  body  was  claimed  by  the 
friends  who  had  identified  it,  and  while  preparing  it  for 
removal,  a  woman,  closely  veiled,  entered  the  room  and 
asked  to  see  the  body.  The  request  was  granted,  and 
drawing  from  her  face  a  thick  veil,  Alice  stood  before 
me.  There  was  ho  mistaking  that  face,  though,  alto- 
gether, it  was  not  what  it  had  been.  Enough  of  it 
remained  to  show  me  at  a  glance  that  she  had  at  last 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


69 


been  overtaken  by  some  terrible  misfortune.  She  was 
tastefully  and  richly  dressed,  but  not  showy, — that 
would  not  have  been  suited  even  to  her  lost  dignity. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  make  myself  known  to  her, 
as  she  evidently  did  not  see  in  the  full-grown  man  be- 
fore her,  the  boy  acquaintance  of  former  years.  Beside 
this,  she  seemed  so  absorbed  and  awe-stricken  at  the 
sight  before  her  that  she  had  no  time  for  recognition. 
She  saw  but  the  one  object,  and  before  it  she  stood  for 
a  time  speechless.  A  second  thought,  coupled  with 
the  remembrance  of  my  errand,  set  every  faculty  of 
my  brain  on  the  alert,  and  I  confronted  her  without 
the  least  apparent  excitement,  nevertheless,  I  could 
distinctly  hear  every  pulsation.  As  I  look  back  at  it 
now,  I  seemed  to  have  concentrated  a  life  time  into  a 
single  moment.  In  this  frame  of  mind  I  waited  for 
developments,  feeling  that  when  they  came  I  should 
turn  them  to  good  professional  account. 

At  the  first  sight  of  the  body,  a  paleness  like  that  of 
the  dead,  spread  over  a  face  that  still  had  in  it  all  the 
old  peculiarities  with  which  I  had  been  familiar,  and 
which  seemed  to  have  been  intensified  by  some  sud- 
den overwhelming  grief. 

A  momentary  shudder,  a  convulsive  sob,  and  all 
was  over.  When  she  turned  to  go  there  was  not  a 
trace  of  excitement  or  nervousness  visible  in  her  man- 
ner or  face.  She  had  resumed  her  old  self.  Novice 
that  I  was,  I  jumped  at  a  conclusion,  and  that  was, 
that  the  murderess  stood  before  me.  The  more  I  re- 
flected, the  more  certain  I  became,  until  at  last  the 
conviction  took  complete  possession  of  me,  and  nothing 
was  left  me  but  to  act  upon  the  conviction.  Without 
exciting  suspicion,  I  kept  sufficiently  near  her  to  no- 
tice the  number  of  the  house  in  Twelfth  street  in  which 


7o 


Prostitution  in  JYcw  York. 


ahe  disappeared.  A  moment's  cooler  reflection 
brouglil  me  to  my  senses,  and  I  began  voluntarily  to 
question  myself  about  a  circumstance  in  which  there 
was  nothing  in  reality  unusual,  save  the  single  fact  of 
her  excitement  on  beholding  the  face,  and  that  might 
merely  be  the  result  of  an  entirely  innocent  cause. 
Surely  nothing  that  occurred  while  there  would  fur- 
nish a  reason  upon  which  an  arrest  could  be  made,  and 
so  again  I  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  •  I  was  get- 
ting on  too  fast.  I  developed  zeal,  but  was  deficient 
in  that  cool  reserve,  and  outward  indifference,  so 
essential  to  the  successful  detective. 

At  this  point  in  my  life,  as  I  look  back  at  it  now, 
there  came  over  it  a  moment  of  unconsciousness,  and 
between  it  and  that  which  found  me  pulling  a  bell  at 
No.  — ,  12th  street,  1  have  not  the  slightest  remem- 
brance of  anything  that  occurred.  But  there  I  was,  and 
with  a  determination  to  enter  the  house,  demand  to 
see  Alice,  and  charge  her  with  the  murder.  The  im- 
pulse was  an  inspiration,  and  I  determined  to  obey, 
come  what  mi^ht.  If  it  turned  out  that  1  was  the  victim 
of  an  unwonted  excitement,  I  would  seek  another  occu- 
pation. Another  moment  found  me  in  the  parlor,  and 
I  asked  for  the  mistress  of  the  house — it  was  a  notori 
ous  one — as  1  could  not  believe  the  woman  I  sought 
was  there  under  her  real  name. 

My  queries  were  cut  short  by  the  appearance  of  the 
woman  herself;  she  had  heard  my  demand  and  came 
to  answer  it  in  person.  She  called  me  by  name,  and 
remarked  with  a  splendid  touch  of  her  old  manner, 
that  made  every  nerve  in  my  body  quiver  with  anger, 
that  she  knew  me  at  the  first  meeting,  but  did  not  care 
to  renew  an  acquaintance  that  had  never  been  very 
cordial — on  my  part.    This  last  was  a  damper,  but  I 


Prostitution  in  JSTiio  York. 


71 


was  getting  up  my  reserve  meanwhile,  for  a  final  and 
overwhelming  attack.  The  old  dislike  of  her  had 
gained  the  mastery,  and  I  blurted  out  that  I  believed 
her  guilty  of  the  murder.  A  moment  after,  and  I 
would  have  given  wTorlds,  had  I  possessed  them,  to 
have  recalled  that  sentence.  It  was  too  late,  and  the 
single,  sharp,  unearthly  cry,  that  came  from  the  very 
lowest  depths  of  that  injured  woman's  soul,  lives  and 
will  forever  live  in  my  memory  as  part  and  parcel 
of  it. 

I  suppose  that  each  one  of  us  commits  in  the  course 
of  his  life,  unwittingly  it  may  be,  some  piece  of  stupi- 
dity such  as  this,  and  for  which  no  apology  or  atone- 
ment can  ever  be  made.  It  would  be  pleasant  for  me, 
in  mitigation  of  my  own  folly  in  this  instance,  to  be- 
lieve such  to  be  the  truth.  She  stood  for  an  instant  aa 
if  transfixed,  and  without  a  word,  turned  upon  me  with 
a  look  so  like  that  of  a  demon,  that  I  could  not  utter 
the  deep  regret  I  felt  for  the  wrong  I  had  done  her. 
In  a  moment  her  old  equanimity  and  self  poise  return- 
ed, and  the  sequel  will  show  that  she  was  more  than  a 
match  for  me.  I  had  always  given  her  credit  for  great 
ability,  but  I  can  say  now,  after  more  than  twenty -five 
years  experience  in  a  calling  that  brings  those  who 
possess  it  in  almost  daily  contact  with  superb  crimi- 
nals, I  have  met  only  once  with  anything  like  this. 
There  was  no  look  of  injured  innocence  in  her  face 
now,  nor  of  defiance,  but  the  certainty  of  her  in- 
nocence became  more  and  more  apparent  as  I  looked 
upon  her  face,  now  pale  with  indignation. 

During  all  this  time  I  had  been  standing.  Taking 
a  seat  herself,  she  pointed  to  a  chair,  and  desired  to 
know  if  I  wished  to  continue  the  interview,  and  if  not 
she  would  excuse  herself.    Showing  her  the  badge  I 


72 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


wore,  Bhe  realized  for  the  first  that  though  I  had 
wronged  her,  there  was  at  least  in  that  a  slight  pallia- 
tion  for  the  wrong  inflicted. — "  I  am  a  woman  still," 
Bhe  continued,  "though  yon  believe  me  a  monster. 
Let  that  pass.  I  am  an  inmate  of  this  house  and  have 
been  for  years  ;  what  is  more  I  am  its  mistress,  and  I 
have  one  favor  to  ask  when  you  shall  be  convinced 
that  of  the  crime  of  murder,  I  am  as  innocent  as 
yon,  and  that  is  that  you  shall  do  me  full  justice. 
Of  my  other  short  comings,  we  will  now  have  a  plain 

talk.    You  remember  George  II  ,  the  handsomest 

and  most  fascinating  of  all  the  boys  in  L  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  but  I  have  never  seen  him  since 
he  left  for  his  college  home  at  Harvard.  What  of 
him?" 

"  Only  this.  The  woman  whose  remains  you  saw 
an  hour  ago  was  his  wife.  I  knew  her  years  ago  as  a 
school-mate,  and  afterwards  as  his  wife.  She  was 
as  lovely  in  character  as  in  her  person,  and  I  have 
but  just  learned,  how  deeply  I  have  wronged  her. 

Two  weeks   before  my  disappearance   from  L  

he  made  his  appearance  there,  and  although  my  fami- 
ly knew  nothing  of  our  meetings  I  met  him  every  day. 
His  wife  had  died,  as  he  told  me,  in  Europe,  while  on 
a  trip  abroad  some  time  ago.  I  had  always  admired 
him,  and  as  he  now  appeared,  after  years  of  travel  and 
easy  living,  the  possessor,  to  all  outward  appearances, 
of  every  manly  grace,  I  adored  him.  I  soon  learned 
to  my  cost,  that  this  brilliant  exterior  covered  the 
heart  of  as  abandoned  a  sensualist  as  could  be  found 
on  earth,  and  his  cruelty  to  me  has  been  as  signal  as 
his  baseness. 

"  Believing  him  to  be  what  he  said  he  was,  a 
widower,  I  received  his  attentions,  and  when  we  left 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


73 


L  I  left  it  as  his  mistress.    -"We  quarreled  over  a 

bill  of  jewelry  that  I  had  purchased,  at  the  end  of  a 
year,  parted,  and  I  have  never  seen  him  since.  As  I 
stood  this  morning  in  the  presence  of  the  dead  body 
of  the  woman  whom  I  had  supposed  went  to  her  grave 
yeara  before,  the  thought  of  my  great  double  sin  so 
overwhelmed  me,  that,  fallen  and  wretched  as  I  am — 
wretched  past  redemption — I  wished  nothing  so  much 
as  to  follow  her."  "  Do  you  suppose,"  said  she,  with 
vehemence,  "that  there  has  been  a  moment  during 
our  criminal  intimacy,  that  I  would  not  have  fled  from 
him  as  from  the  devil,  if  I  had  known  that  she  still 
lived  ?  Whether  or  not  he  is  in  this  city  now  I  do  not 
know,  but  if  he  is,  depend  upon  it  he  is  the  mur- 
derer." * 

In  less  than  two  weeks,  I  had  gathered  facts  and 
circumstances  sufficient  to  warrant  his  arrest,  and  an 
indictment  for  murder  soon  followed,  but  the  case 
never  came  to  trial.  Before  the  day  set  down  for  it 
arrived,  the  prisoner  was  found  one  morning  dead  in 
his  cell.  A  paper  was  found,  written  in  his  own  hand, 
confessing  himself  the  murderer. 

So  great  was  the  shock  to  the  woman  I  had  suspect- 
ed, that'  she  determined  to  abandon  her  life  of  shame, 
and  I  communicated  the  fact  of  her  resolve  to  her 
friends,  who,  I  learned  from  her  own  lips,  had  tried 
again  and  again  to  win  her  back  to  a  decent  life,  but 
without  success.  She  did  not  go  back  to  her  native 
town,  but  went  to  live  with  a  younger  sister  who  had 
married  and  gone  to  Canada  to  reside.  It  was  too 
late.  A  life  of  virtue  had  no  charms  for  her,  and  after 
a  year  she  returned,  and  is  at  this  moment  the  keeper 
of  one  of  the  worst  brothels  in  this  city. 


CHAPTER  X. 


OTHER  CAUSES  OF  PROSTITUTION.  CLOSELY  PACKED  POPU- 
LATIONS.— new  England's  contribution. 

In  1866,  Bishop  Simpson,  in  a  public  address,  stated 
the  number  of  prostitutes  in  this  city  alone,  to  be 
equal  to  the  female  membership  of  the  Methodist 
Church,  and  a  writer  on  the  same  subject  affirms  that 
the  statistics  of  crime  show  that  the  larger  number 
of  women  who  commence  lives  of  prostitution,  after 
making  New  York  their  home,  come  from  New  Eng- 
land. 

Either  of  these  statements  is  sufficiently  startling, 
and  both  are  worthy  of  special  attention  ;  the  first,  be- 
cause of  the  high  source  from  which  it  comes,  and  the 
other  because  it  is  susceptible  of  explanation  without 
discredit  to  the  section  concerning  which  it  is  made. 

Bishop  Simpson's  figures  are  above  any  estimate 
that  we  have  seen,  but  we  are  impelled  to  say,  from 
personal  observation  in  a  general  way,  in  that 
same  direction,  that  his  estimate  is  nearer  the  truth 
than  any  other  yet  put  forth. 

Of  New  England  as  a  feeder  to  prostitution,  it  is 
but  just  to  say,  that  in  proportion  to  population,  she 
furnishes  less  to  swell  the  number  of  our  paupers  and 
criminals  than  any  other  section  of  the  country.  Her 
population,  compact,  industrious,  and  intelligent,  is 
made  up  for  the  most  part  of  those  employed  in  her 
manufactories,  a  people  among  whom  contact  is  espe- 
cially close,  and  for  this  very  reason  more  liable  to  pro- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


75 


duce  the  evil  of  which  we  speak  than  would  be  the  case, 
were  the  number  the  same,  scattered  over  a  wider  area. 

In  her  large  establishments,  men  and  women,  boys 
and  girls,  are  huddled  together  in  a  manner  that  in- 
duces the  utmost  familiarity  and  the  closest  intimacy, 
both  favorable,  unless  controlled  by  education  and 
discipline,  to  the  propagation  of  crime.  Nevertheless, 
it  must  be  said  for  the  hills,  made  sacred  as  the  homes 
of  the  Puritans,  that  they  are  covered  with  a  people 
especially  distinguished  for  thrift,  industry  and  moral- 
ity, so  that  in  making  up  her  proportion  of  those  who 
fall  by  the  way,  as  women  of  ill  repute,  no  section  has 
furnished  so  few  as  New  England. 

In  those  manufactories  in  which  women  only  are 
employed,  and  in  large  numbers,  the  tendency  to 
lewdness  is  not  so  great,  though  still  sufficiently 
strong.  Tired  of  a  life  that  finds  social  gratification 
only  by  contact  with  their  own  sex,  and  longing  for  a 
contact  more  exciting,  and  we  will  add  more  healthy, 
when  properly  restrained,  many  of  these,  after  years 
of  hard  work  to  keep  body  and  soul  together,  fly  from 
the  plain,  hum-drum  homes  of  their  ancestors,  to  find 
in  this  last  refuge  of  the  refuse  population  of  modern 
civilization,  a  paradise  that  will  add  a  modicum  of 
excitement  to  lives  of  dreary  and  intolerable  routine. 

When  it  is  considered  that  in  former  times  the  wo- 
men and  children  of  these  New  England  hives  of  in- 
dustry and  wealth,  were  once  compelled  to  work  from 
twelve  to  sixteen  hours  a  day,  what  wonder  that  thou- 
sands of  them  freed  themselves  every  year  from  the 
iron  grasp  of  cupidity,  to  find  a  home,  or  the  sem- 
blance of  it,  at  least,  that  presented  the  temptation  in 
exchange,  of  a  few  years  of  gilded  misery. 

The  statistics  that  would  show  just  how  many  had 


76 


Prostitution  in  Ni  10  York, 


been  driven  hither  dnring  the  last  decade  by  overwork 
alone,  would  be  a  most  melancholy  and  suggestive 
one,  nol  at  all  flattering  to  our  national  vanity,  or  our 
boasted  generosity  and  love  of  justice,  and  it  may  be 
added,  that  this  result  is  in  good  part  due  to  the  fact 
that  in  New  England,  the  friction  incident  to  a  closely 
packed  working  population  is  beginning  seriously  to 
be  felt,  demonstrating  that,  generous  as  we  are,  when 
capital  and  labor  come  in  close  contact,  capital  can  be 
as  exacting  here  as  in  those  countries  where  it  must  be 
exacting,  in  order  to  take  care  of  itself  against  orga- 
nized numbers. 

But,  the  most  alarming  fact  of  all  is,  that  not  alone 
witJi  us,  but  in  all  our  great  cities,  prostitution  is  fear- 
fully on  the  increase.  With  us  in  this  city,  the  de- 
mand has  become  so  great  for  victims,  that  a  system 
of  espionage  is  kept  up  by  the  keepers  of  second  and 
third  rate  houses  of  prostitution,  that  is  far-reaching 
in  its  influence  for  evil. 

The  hotels,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  the  steamers 
that  ply  between  this  and  neighboring  ports,  East  and 
South,  are  watched  by  pimps  and  other  procurators, 
with  a  vigilance  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  while  our 
police,  or  a  portion  of  it,  are  known  to  be  in  collusion 
with  these  villains,  and  who  do  not  scruple  to  profit 
in  a  pecuniary  way  by  the  extra  services  they  perform 
in  this  mercenary  direction. 

What  a  humiliating  confession  is  that  which  these 
facts  extort,  that  in  this  great  city,  with  its  wealth,  its 
intelligence,  its  morality,  its  Christianity,  the  men  we 
employ  to  ferret  out  crime,  and  to  lend  all  the  assist- 
ance in  their  power  to  bring  the  crimina^  to  punish- 
ment, are  often  its  aiders  and  abettors,  and  that  the 
innocence  of  childhood,  to  say  nothing  of  its  helpless- 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  77 

ness,  qualities  that  appeal  with  touching  eloquence  to 
all  that  is  tender  and  manly  in  man,  are  often  betray- 
ed by  the  very  officials  whose  chief  business  it  is  to 
protect  innocence  against  the  wiles  and  arts  of  these 
raiders  upon  virtue. 

It  is  a  charge  often  made,  and  rarely  denied  any 
more,  that  several  of  our  Police  Captains  are  known 
to  be  in  collusion  with  the  keepers  of  panel  and  dance 
houses,  and  gambling  hells  of  every  sort,  and  who  re- 
ceive from  these  a  yearly  stipend  larger  in  amount 
than  their  yearly  salaries.  What  wonder  that  with  so 
many  helps,  the  infernal  traffic  should  go  on  without 
let  or  hindrance  ?  What  more  could  those  who  fatten 
upon  the  business  ask,  than  that  their  victims  should 
be  handed  over  to  them  by  the  police  at  so  much  per 
capita,  themselves  in  the  meantime  securing  from 
these  same  officials,  these  guardians  of  the  public 
peace,  immunity  from  all  their  crimes  ? 

More  than  this.  It  is  alleged  that  the  country  cities 
and  large  villages,  within  easy  distance  of  the  Metropo- 
lis, are  scoured  by  these  procurators,  for  that  class  of 
girls,  to  whom  restraint  is  almost  unknown,  and  who, 
possessed  of  that  easy-going  self-confidence  so  attractive 
to  certain  of  the  male  sex,  soon  fall  a  willing  prey  into 
the  hands  of  these  scoundrels. 

It  is  a  yad  commentary  upon  our  humanity  that  in 
this  abode  of  all  that  is  profuse  and  noble  in  charity, 
we,  who  send  tons  of  Bibles  yearly  to  the  heathen  of 
Timbuctoo,  permit,  right  here  at  home,  to  go  unwhip- 
ped  of  justice,  a  class  of  social  harpies  and  vampyres, 
that  should  never  be  allowed  to  breathe  outside  of  the 
walls  of  a  state  prison  ;  social  bloodhounds,  banded  to- 
gether for  systematic  raids  upon  the  unfortunate  and 
the  unprotected  ;  decoys,  who  prowl  around  the  hotels 


78 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


and  boarding-schools  of  country  villages  for  the  vic- 
tim- that  in  the  end  go  to  swell  the  army  of  do-noth- 
ings and  criminals  with  which  this  overburdened  city 
is  cursed,  and  from  which  it  will  never  be  relieved, 
until  those  who  taking  from  their  own  pockets  the  mean? 
to  pay  for  a  good  government,  shall  see  to  it  that  the 
good  government  is  forthcoming. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  when  one  of  these  "profes- 
sionals" gets  on  the  track  of  a  half-educated,  or  care- 
lessly bred  girl,  her  ruin  is  only  a  question  of  time. 
One  by  one  the  charms  of  a  city  life  are  pictured  to 
her  imagination,  and  then  comes  the  notice  some 
morning,  in  the  village  paper,  of  the  "  sudden  disap- 
pearance," and  all  is  over. 

On  their  arrival  here,  they  are  put  through  a  course 
of  training  that  is  most  effectual  in  bringing  about  the 
result  desired.  The  concert,  the  ball,  the  masquerade, 
the  theatre,  the  late  supper,  and  should  all  these  fail 
t«>  win  the  subject  over  to  a  lewd  life,  the  wTell-drug- 
ged  glass  of  wine  does  the  business,  and  the  ruin  is 
complete.  It  is  a  long,  tedious  process  often,  but 
those  who  foot  the  bills  are  the  sons  of  our  million- 
aires, who  pay  handsomely,  and  who  must  have  fur- 
nished them  the  very  best  and  dantiest  article  that  the 
market  affords. 

This  point  reached,  the  descent  to  the  second  class 
brothel  is  easy,  in  most  cases,  while  the  more  sensitive 
ones,  who  shrink  at  first  from  the  idea  of  entering  a 
bagnio,  are  led  to  it  at  last  through  the  circuitous 
route  of  the  hotel,  boarding  house,  "  where  no  imper- 
tinent questions  are  asked,"  or  to  the  house  of  assigna- 
tion. Thence,  the  way  down  to  the  lowest  hells 
of  prostitution  is  swift  and  certain. 

Could  the  number  of  fathers  and  mothers  that  como 


Prostitution  in  New  Yov~k, 


79 


here  every  year  in  search  of  daughters  who  have  fall- 
en into  lewd  ways  through  some  of  the  many  snares 
set  to  entrap  them  be  known,  it  would  open  the  eyes 
of  the  most  incredulous  to  a  picture  past  comprehen- 
sion in  the  repulsiveness  of  its  details. 

What  field  more  white  for  a  harvest  of  good  and 
thorough  work,  than  that  covered  with  the  twenty,  yes 
thirty  thousand  women  of  shame,  public  and  private, 
of  this  city  ;  and  why,  when  all  other  crimes  are  most 
industriously  ferreted  out,  should  this  crime  against 
poor  human  nature,  society,  and  the  State,  be  left  to 
fatten  upon  the  means  which  a  venal  municipal  gov- 
ernment furnishes  through  its  neglect  ? 

We  look  after  the  drunkard,  the  pauper,  the  home- 
less, the  orphan,  and  the  insane,  but  refuse  absolutely 
that  protection  dictated  by  humanity  to  those  women 
who,  having  once  fallen  by  the  way,  find  no  friendly 
hand  extended  for  their  relief. 

Were  it  true  that  every  one  of  this  army  of  fallen 
ones  had  reached  their  present  way  of  living  volun- 
tarily, they  would  still  have  claims  upon  our  sympathy 
and  humanity ;  but  when  it  is  remembered  that  the 
cases  of  voluntary  prostitution  are  very  rare,  and  form 
the  exception  to  the  rule,  it  seems  positively  amazing 
that  no  systematic  effort  has  yet  been  made  in  this 
country,  save  in  St.  Louis,  to  reclaim  them. 

The  "Midnight  Mission"  of  this  city,  organized 
some  time  since  for  the  purpose  of  winning  back  to 
lives  of  virtue  those  fallen  ones,  has  been  able  to  ac- 
complish little  or  nothing  for  the  want  of  means  in  the 
first  place,  and  the  still  greater  want  of  faith  in  a  work 
that  promises  so  little  in  the  way  of  good  and  satisfac- 
tory results  ;  but  it  is,  notwithstanding  its  failure  thus 
far,  a  move  in  the  right  direction,  and  when  pushed 


Prostitution  in  3Tew  York. 


in  the  right  spirit,  will  take  its  true  place  among 
our  very  noblest  charities.  What  is  needed  to  start 
with,  is  faith  in  a  cause  that  presents  at  starting  so 
many  obstacles  in  the  way  of  success,  none  of  which 
would  be  found  insurmountable  in  the  hands  of  the 
women  who  have  made  our  other  charities  famous 
throughout  the  world. 

There  is  one  direction  in  which  the  cry  for  reform 
comes  trumpet-tongued,  and  to  which,  sooner  or  later, 
we  must  listen.  It  comes  from  girls  who  are  dragged 
into  the  lowest  hells  of  Water  and  other  streets,  before 
they  have  reached  puberty ;  mere  children,  and  by 
these  harpies  we  have  mentioned.  Not  to  do  all  that 
can  be  done  to  rescue  these  from  the  hand  of  the  de- 
spoiler,  is  to  belie  the  Christianity  we  profess,  and  go 
back  upon  our  civilization  and  manhood,  if  such  a 
quality  be  yet  left  to  us  here  in  this  Sodom  of  the 
western  world. 

Still  another  thing  is  certain.  We  are  opening  our 
eyes  to  the  truth,  gradually  but  surely,  that  prostitu- 
tion is  but  a  part  of  the  great  sexual  problem  that  the 
future  must  solve.  The  data  to  be  used  accumulates 
with  a  rapidity  that  is  appalling,  but  it  accumulates 
notwithstanding.  If  the  Church,  the  moralist,  the 
philanthropist,  the  benevolent,  each  sets  his  face 
against  it,  who  but  the  scientist,  in  pursuit  of  truth, 
and  that  alone,  and  loving  it,  moreover,  for  its  own 
sake,  will  undertake  the  work  of  removing  the  preju- 
dices that  now  surround  it,  and  which  stand  in  the 
way  of  its  speedy  solution  ? 


CHAPTER  ZI. 


SEARCHING  FOR  A  DAUGHTER.  THE  PHOTOGRAPH. 

It  is  only  a  few  months  since  that  all  New  York 
was  startled  one  morning  by  the  announcement  that  a 
bond  robbery,  of  a  very  large  amount,  had  been  per- 
petrated in  a  neighboring  city.  The  thieves,  as  was 
suspected,  came  straight  to  this  city,  and  I,  with  two 
others,  was  employed  to  work  up  the  case.  After 
baiting  all  our  traps  we  "  fought  shy  "  for  a  time, 
waiting  for  events.  Meantime  a  telegram  arrived 
from  one  of  the  victims  of  the  robbery  to  meet  him 
on  the  morning  following  on  a  Fall  River  steamer. 

At  an  early  hour  1  found  myself  on  board,  too  early, 
as  it  turned  out,  not  a  passenger  having  yet  left  his 
stateroom,  and  so  having  a  little  time  on  my  hands,  I 
threw  myself  upon  a  sofa  in  the  upper  saloon,  and 
waited  developments. 

There  are  moments,  even  in  the  life  of  a  detective, 
when,  worn  out  or  perplexed  with  unmanageable  de- 
tails in  some  difficult  case  of  crime,  sleep  comes  with- 
out wooing,  and  he  waits  only  the  opportunity  to  find 
himself  into  the  arms  of  the  sleepy  god.  Though  I 
had  risen  but  a  half  hour  before,  in  five  minutes  I 
was  asleep.  My  nap  was  cut  short,  however,  by  a 
gentle  tug  at  my  coat  collar,  that  set  me  bolt  upright. 
It  came  from  the  person  for  whom  I  waited,  who  in- 
formed me,  much  to  my  chagrin,  that  one  of  the 
thieves  had  been  found,  and  that  the  whole  matter 
had  been  "  compromised,"  a  polite  phrase  which  mod- 


82 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


era  bond-robbery  victims  use  in  place  of  "  compound- 
ing a  felony." 

My  occupation  being  gone,  I  started  for  my  hotel, 
bnt  before  I  reached  the  gang-plank  of  the  steamer,  I 
had  been  employed  in  another  case  that  turned  out  a 
more  successful  one,  and  to  which  I  look  back  now  as 
the  one  that  afforded  me  as  much  excitement  as  any 
other,  though  little  beside  persistence  was  needed  to 
bring  it  to  a  successful  issue. 

As  I  was  leaving  the  steamer,  my  eye  fastened  itself, 
as  by  magnetism,  upon  a  middle-aged  man,  plainly 
attired,  and  with  that  extreme  attention  to  neatness 
that  indicates  the  Xew  England  or  Western  ISTew  York 
farmer,  when  he  dons  his  best  Sunday  suit  for  a  visit 
to  the  great  Metropolis. 

A  moment  later  and  all  thought  of  his  dress  van- 
ished, so  entirely  had  I  become  absorbed  in  the  face 
itself.  To  the  practical  eye  of  the  detective,  familiar 
with  the  slightest  efforts  at  deception,  there  is  nothing 
that  so  quickly  inspires  contempt  as  simulated  grief, 
and  if  he  be  a  sharp  and  steady  observer,  he  rarely 
finds  himself  "  mistaken  in  his  man." 

I  have  been  an  actor  in  so  many  harrowing  scenes 
during  these  later  years  of  my  official  life,  that  I  am 
rarely  moved  to  anything  like  active  sympathy,  but 
go  about  my  duties  in  a  mechanical  way,  tolerably 
well  satisfied  to  find  the  results  achieved  in  any  given 
case  to  be  in  fair  proportion  to  the  efforts  expended  ; 
yet,  in  spite  of  the  indifference  induced  by  constant 
contact  with  crime  in  one  or  another  of  its  phases,  a  case 
now  and  then  turns  up  that  stirs  one  from  the  very 
bottom,  and  which,  for  the  time,  lifts  him  into  a 
region  that  is  romance  itself.  At  all  events,  it  was 
plain  that  here  was  a  case  of  real,  overwhelming 


Prostitution  in  yew  York. 


83 


grief.  There  was  no  mistaking  it,  and  so  powerfully 
did  it  appeal  in  the  look  of  blank  despair  in  the  face 
before  me,  that  my  habit  of  indifference  soon  gave 
way  to  an  interest  in  the  man,  that  I  could  not 
exj^lain. 

Whatever  the  cause  of  the  grief,  it  had  ploughed 
its  way  deep  into  long  lines  about  the  face  and  eye, 
and  had  left  in  the  latter  an  expression  of  such  mourn- 
ful tenderness  that  it  would  have  melted  a  heart  of 
stone.  As  I  looked  at  the  man  with  a  feeling  of  sym- 
pathy that  no  other  face  ever  inspired  in  me,  it  seemed 
that  all  these  changes  must  have  been  wrought  in  an 
instant,  as  hair  is  said  to  whiten  at  a  single  touch  of  a 
great  grief,  or  a  sudden  fright,  that  came  to  change 
in  a  moment  the  currents  of  a  whole  life. 

My  look  had  evidently  reassured  him,  for  in  a  mo- 
ment he  was  at  my  side,  and  accosted  me  with  the 
old  familiar  "  Stranger,  are  you  acquainted  here  in  the 
city  ?"  "  Tolerably  well,"  I  replied,  showing  him  my 
badge,  and  looking  into  his  face  again  with  a  vague 
feeling  that  I  could  be  of  service  to  him,  and  that  he 
needed  a  guide.  Upon  inquiry,  1  found  that  he  had 
come  in  search  of  a  daughter  who,  he  informed  me, 
had  left  home  four  years  before,  and  from  whom  he 
had  not,  during  all  this  time,  heard  a  word. 

"  For  three  years,"  said  he,  "  we  have  spent  all 
the  little  means  I  had  scraped  together  by  hard  work 
on  a  farm  near  Eochester,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
which  I  still  reside.  Two  years  ago  I  was  compelled 
to  give  it  up,  but  I  have  spent  it  all  in  search  of  her, 
and  would  spend  as  much  more  if  I  had  it. 

"  She  was  our  only  child,"  he  continued,  in  the  same 
garrulous  strain,  and  which  had  for  me,  I  cannot  tell 
why,  a  strange  fascination,  "and  a  very  sweet  good  girl, 


84 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


besides,  always  obedient  and  willing,  and  more  like 
a  sister  than  a  daughter,  for  there  was  but  eighteen 
years  difference  in  their  ages." 

By  this  time  as  we  walked  along  together,  we  had 
reached  Nassau  street,  when  I  enquired  where  he  was 
going  to  stop  during  his  stay.  "  He  had  not  given  it 
a  thought,"  he  said,  and  wanted  to  know  where  a 
cheap  lodging  could  be  obtained.  I  gave  him  the 
required  information,  and  would  have  left  him  at 
once,  but  I  had  grown  so  anxious  to  hear  his  whole 
story,  and  he  seemed  so  anxious  to  tell  it,  that  I 
asked  him  to  give  me  a  brief  account  of  the  whole 
affair,  which  he  did  with  a  simple,  touching  elo- 
quence, that  no  pen  can  describe.  It  seems  to  me 
now,  as  I  recall  his  look,  his  manner,  and  his  words, 
that  had  he  continued  to  talk  until  this  time,  I  should 
have  listened  to  him  willingly. 

Full  of  his  subject,  he  resumed  at  the  point  at  which 
I  had  checked  him,  and  from  that  time  he  had  it  all 
his  own  way.    He  talked  straight  on. 

"  I  was  speaking  of  my  wife,"  he  continued.  "  We 
began  life  early,  with  nothing  but  our  own  hands,  a 
good  name,  and  a  good  stock  of  courage.  Annie 
came  to  us  within  a  year  of  our  wedding  day,  and  a 
happier  little  home  was  never  seen  than  that  was  the 
day  she  came.  From  the  hour  she  was  born,  up  to 
the  day  she  left  us  without  a  word  of  explanation, 
there  never  was  a  time  when  either  of  us  would  not 
have  iriven  our  own  life  in  exchange  for  Annie's.  We 
worked  and  tugged  from  nothing,  with  a  kind  of  glad 
feeling  that  though  we  both  had  been  poor,  and  had 
no  education  to  speak  of,  Annie  should  start  out  in 
lite  with  a  brighter  prospect,  and  so  we  worked,  not 
for  ourselves,  but  for  her.    Our  neighbors  would  some- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


85 


times  say  that  we  bad  set  our  hearts  too  much  on  the 
child,  and  that  it  would  have  been  better  for  her  if  she 
had  shared  with  others  the  love  we  gave  to  her." 

Passing  up  Chatham  street  we  stopped  at  Sweeny's, 
and  as  my  breakfast  hour  had  come,  I  took  a  seat  with 
my  new  friend  at  one  of  the  tables.  As  I  took  my 
seat  opposite  his  face  lighted  up  with  an  expression 
that  was  unearthly,  and  for  the  moment  I  thought  him 
insane,  and  I  still  think  he  had  passed  into  what  the 
medical  men  call  melancholia,  but  it  was  a  madness 
so  sweet  in  its  sadness,  that  it  carried  me  along  with 
him  with  a  fascination  I  had  never  felt  before. 

After  discussing  a  light  breakfast,  I  excused  myself 
and  made  an  appointment  with  him  at  my  rooms  for 
the  evening.  There  was  not  a  moment  during  the  in- 
terval that  he  was  not  in  my  mind,  his  face,  and 
manner,  and  the  simple  story  of  his  grief,  and  when 
the  hour  appointed  for  the  meeting  came,  I  opened  the 
door  to  him  with  a  feeling  of  relief. 

Dropping  into  a  chair  exhausted,  he  went  on  with 
his  story.  It  had  taken  complete  possession  of  every 
faculty  he  possessed,  and  I  had  myself  become  by  this 
time  so  interested  in  its  recital  that  I  welcomed  him 
in  a  way  that  put  him  perfectly  at  his  ease.  Besides 
this  I  had  recalled  to  my  mind  during  the  day  certain 
circumstances  and  remembrances  that  led  me  to  believe 
that  I  should  discover  the  whereabouts  of  his  daughter. 

After  remarking  that  he  had  spent  the  day  walking 
about  the  streets,  but  had  not  met  his  daughter,  he 
took  up  the  thread  of  his  story  precisely  where  he 
had  broken  it  in  the  morning,  and  went  on  in  his  old 
way,  and  wdiich  seemed  to  give  him  immediate  relief. 
As  I  looked  at  him  now,  I  knew  that  four  years  of 
waiting  for  Annie  to  come  back  to  him  had  made  him 


S6 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


a  monomaniac.  In  his  mind  there  was  but  one  cen- 
tral, all-absorbing  figure,  and  that  was  the  daughter 
lost  to  him  forever.  He  had  looked  at  it  with  his 
mind's  eye  until  all  others  had  vanished.  To  him 
she  was  an  ever-present  entity. 

"  About  six  months  before  my  daughter  disappear- 
ed," he  resumed,  "  and  while  she  was  at  a  boarding 

school  as  a  pupil,  at  the  village  of  S  ,  near  where 

my  little  farm  was  located,  a  young  man  of  good  ap- 
pearance and  manner  came  to  reside  at  the  village 
hotel,  a  kind  of  summer  resort  for  plain  people  from 
the  city.  He  was  not  like  our  own  young  men,  who 
have  to  work  for  what  they  get,  but  had  soft,  white 
hands,  and  a  foreign  way  with  him  that  made 
him  attractive  to  country  people,  and  especially  the 

young  girls  of  S  .    In  less  than  a  week  he  was  at 

home  everywhere, — you  know  it  don't  take  long  to  get 
acquainted  in  a  town  like  ours.  We  are  curious,  and 
like  to  see  strangers  with  their  new  ways,  and  new 
talk.  Before  the  academy  closed  for  the  summer  va- 
cation, he  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  almost  every 
one  of  the  larger  girls,  and  had  presented  a  letter  to 
the  principal  from  a  distinguished  clergyman  of  this 
city,  endorsing  him  as  a  young  man  of  wealth,  and  of 
good  family.  This  wTas  enough  to  set  our  little  town 
crazy  over  him,  and  from  that  time  he  had  it  all  his 
own  way.  Having  no  business,  he  amused  himself 
driving  about  and  calling  upon  the  girls  of  the  village 
and  the  boarders  at  the  academy,  where  my  daughter 
was  also  a  boarder,  coming  to  us  at  home  on  Sun- 
days. 

Vacation  came  at  last,  and  Annie  came  home  to  stay, 
as  we  had  spent  all  we  could  afford  for  her  education. 
From  the  very  day  she  arrived  we  saw  that  she  was 


Prostitution  in  J¥ew  York. 


87 


no  longer  the  Annie  that  she  had  been  to  us.  In  all 
her  life  before,  she  had  never  seemed  to  keep  from 
either  her  mother  or  myself  anything  that  interested 
us.  She  never  had  any  secrets,  and  we  encotfraged 
her  in  having  none,  so  that  there  was  the  most  perfect 
freedom  in  her  manner  toward  us,  and  which  made 
her  the  life  of  the  house. 

On  coming  home  we  noticed  that  all  had  changed, 
and  Annie  was  no  longer  a  child,  but  a  woman.  It 
was  not  a  pleasant  change  for  us,  though  it  may  have 
been  to  her.  She  was  fretful  and  peevish,  and  what 
was  worse  than  all,  seemed  dissatisfied  with  the  home 
we  had  worked  to  secure  for  her  sake.  First  she  said 
she  wanted  to  go  away  to  teach,  that  she  was  tired  of 
living  in  the  country,  and  wanted  to  go  away  to  the 
city  where  she  could  earn  her  own  living,  and  see  some- 
thing of  the  world. 

Soon  after  her  return  home  she  received  a  letter 
from  some  one,  and  the  next  day  Mr.  Morris,  the  young 
man  I  have  mentioned,  came  to  see  her.  She  became 
very  much  excited  during  his  stay,  and  yet  I  could 
see  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him.  I  hated  him  from 
the  moment  I  laid  my  eyes  upon  him,  and  the  often er 
he  came,  (and  he  visited  us  constantly,)  the  more  I 
became  satisfied  that  Annie  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to 
go  out  with  him  alone.  Her  mother  thought  other- 
wise, and  the  very  first  angry  word  that  was  spoken 
in  our  little  family,  was  said  in  a  conversation  about 
Morris.  My  wife  thought  I  was  prejudiced  against 
him,  and  from  that  time  I  never  said  another  word, 
but  let  things  go  on  their  own  way,  and  that  proved 
bad  enough. 

The  change  in  her  manner  was  a  terrible  blow  to 
me,  sir.    When  it  came  I  felt  that  all  was  over  with 


88 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


us,  and  that  the  comfort  we  had  hoped  would  be  ours 
in  our  old  age,  would  never  come  to  us,  and  I  was 
right,  it  never  will. 

Somehow  I  had  lived  for  her,  though  I  didn't 
know  it  until  now,  and  I  had  hoped  that  the  man  who  ( 
should  marry  her  would  never  take  her  from  our  roof, 
but  that  both  would  prefer  to  live  with  us  as  long  as 
we  should  stay  on  earth ;  and  Annie  had  always,  until 
now,  said  she  never  expected  to  leave  a  home  that 
was  good  enough  for  anybody  to  live  in. 

Meantime  the  visits  of  Mr.  Morris  grew  more  fre- 
quent, and  it  was  a  sad  sight  to  me  to  witness  her  de- 
light at  his  coming,  and  how  strangely  she  behaved  in 
his  absence.  But  talking  was  of  no  use,  her  mother 
had  been  won  over,  and  1  had  to  give  in,  and  I  did  it 
with  the  best  grace  I  could,  though  the  very  sight  of 
him  made  me  crawl  all  over.  I  had  a  kind  of  feeling 
that  Morris  would  turn  out  an  impostor,  and  that  we 
should  yet  be  rid  of  him.  I  was  right,  but  when  he 
did  finally  go,  he  left  behind  him  one  house  in  which 
there  was  real  mourning.  Had  he  burned  it  to  the 
ground  we  could  have  rebuilt  it  with  our  own  hands ; 
but  he  did  more  than  that,  he  made  it  desolate  forever. 
Not  long  after,  the  following  advertisement  appeared 
in  a  paper  published  in  this  city : 

Wanted. — A  young  woman,  of  good  personal  appearance,  and 
good  English  education,  to  take  charge  of  two  children,  in  the 
family  of  a  young  widower.    Address,  etc. 

"The  day  after  this  notice  appeared  my  daugh- 
ter and  Morris  were  missing.  He  had  paid  his  bill  at 
the  hotel,  and  the  last  heard  of  him  was  at  a  station 
near  by,  on  the  N.  Y.  Central  railroad.  Annie 
was  with  him.    We  got  an  officer  to  come  clown  here 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


89 


at  once,  and  he  remained  a  fortnight,  but  could  get  no 
clue  to  her,  though  I  think  he  did  not  know  the  crook- 
ed ways  of  the  city  as  you  know  them. 

My  wife,  until  then  a  cheerful,  bright  woman, 
though  never  very  strong  in  body,  bore  up  for  a  while, 
expecting  day  after  day  that  Annie  would  come  back, 
married,  perhaps,  but  all  would  be  forgiven,  and  that 
we  should  still  be  one  family  ;  but  I  felt  when  she  went 
that  she  had  gone  forever,  and  that  our  life  had  been 
thrown  away.  My  wife  said  very  little  about  the  loss 
we  had  suffered.  Some  women  would  have  fretted 
and  scolded,  and  talked  and  talked,  but  she  was  not  of 
that  sort.  I  verily  believe  she  would  have  been  living 
now  if  she  could  have  talked  about  Annie's  going  as 
I  do  now,  and  as  I  have,  ever  since  she  left, — words  do 
relieve  one  so  much.  But  she  refused  to  talk  with 
any  of  her  neighbors  about  it,  and  fell  into  a  kind  of 
stupor  of  grief  that  it  made  my  very  heart  ache  to  see. 
True,  she  went  about  the  house,  and  did  her  work  just 
the  same,  but  I  could  not  look  in  that  face  of  hers 
without  feeling  that  it  would  soon  be  over  with  her, 
and  that  then  I  should  be  utterly  alone.  I  had  not 
long  to  wait. 

Coming  in  one  day  from  a  field  in  which  I  had 
been  at  work,  just  before  noon,  I  entered  the  house  by 
the  kitchen  door,  and  not  finding  my  wife  there,  passed 
into  the  sitting  room,  a  little  room  that  had  once  been 
the  brightest  in  our  house.  It  was  our  family  room, 
a  little  room,  and  had  in  it  the  little  comforts  that  a 
plain  man,  if  he  knows  what  real  comfort  is,  always 
dotes  on.  We  had  rarely  sat  down  in  it  since  Annie 
went  away,  and  not  finding  my  wife  there,  I  concluded 
she  had  gone  to  her  own  room  for  a  little  rest,  but  on 
going  to  it  found  she  was  not  there. 


90 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


•As  I  knew  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
Annie's  room  often  since  she  left,  I  stepped  across  the 
hall  and  opened  the  door  to  it,  though  with  a  sudden 
feeling  that  all  was  not  right.  On  a  little  lounge,  the 
frame  of  which  I  had  made  with  my  own  hands  years 
before,  and  which  stood  under  the  window  that  looked 
out  upon  our  little  garden  and  the  broad  meadow  be- 
yond, lay  my  wife,  and,  as  I  thought,  asleep,  and  not 
wishing  to  disturb  her  I  went  down  stairs,  without 
tli inking  that  it  was  near  our  dinner  hour,  and  that  no 
dinner  had  been  prepared.  I  took  a  hasty  lunch,  but 
with  a  vague  feeling  of  fear  that  I  could  not  drive 
away.  How  I  got  there  I  have  never  been  able  to 
tell,  for  I  have  no  recollection  of  going  up  stairs  a 
second  time,  but  I  found  myself  soon  afterwards  stand- 
ing directly  in  front  of  the  lounge.  My  wife  still 
looked  as  if  asleep,  but  as  I  lifted  the  curtain  that 
shaded  the  window,  the  light  that  shone  full  upon  her 
face,  told  me  she  was  dead. 

In  a  moment  I  realized  that  I  had  nothing  left  me 
on  earth,  and  I  sat  down  to  look  upon  the  face  that 
had  cheered  me  in  many  a  dark  hour,  with  a  feeling 
that  her  troubles,  at  least,  were  over,  and  that  I  must 
go  on  my  sad  way  alone.  Her  face  still  wore  a  little 
of  the  troubled  look  it  had  worn  for  months,  but  be- 
fore we  laid  her  in  the  coffin  every  trace  of  it  had 
gone,  and  in  its  place  the  sweet,  confiding  face,  as  I 
had  known  it  twenty  years  before,  was  there,  a  face 
that  has  been  before  me  all  these  long  weary  years. 

On  her  breast  lay  a  letter  from  Annie,  written  years 
before,  while  on  a  visit  to  a  friend,  and  on  which  she 
experienced  her  first  fit  of  home-sickness.  It  had 
dropped  from  her  hand  when  the  last  sleep  came. 
Her  left  hand  still  held  a  picture  of  the  one  that  had 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  91 


been  for  years  dead  to  us,  and,  as  I  now  begin  to 
feel,  dead  to  herself.  I  have  carried  it  in  my  pocket 
ever  since.  I  cannot  tell  why,  but  as  I  sat  there  run- 
ning over  the  past,  I  felt  a  kind  of  sad  satisfaction  that 
was  almost  like  indifference.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  should  be  better  able  to  bear  the  burden  alone  than 
if  two  shared  it ;  but  a  moment  later,  when  I  reali- 
zed that  she  who  lay  motionless  before  me,  had  trav- 
eled along  with  me  for  twenty  years,  had  made  my 
home  bright  and  happy  for  us  there,  who  had  tugged 
with  me  for  every  comfort  we  possessed,  and  shared 
them  when  they  came  with  a  look  of  satisfaction  that 
made  the  toil  that  won  them  appear  as  nothing,  I 
could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  I  felt  what  I  shall  never 
feel  again,  the  first  full  realization  of  my  loss.  Now, 
I  remember  nothing  except  that  she  died  without  a 
word  about  her  who  had  been  stolen  from  our  home, 
or  a  word  to  comfort  me  in  the  long  fruitless  search 
of  these  four  weary  years. 

To-day  I  am  without  wife  or  child,  and  almost 
without  hope.  The  little  means  I  had  got  together 
has  been  spent,  and  I  am  only  able  to  pursue  this 
search  through  the  bounty  of  a  friend  who  has  been 
a  brother,  and  more  than  a  brother  to  me  in  my  great 
affliction.  I  want  now  to  make  one  more  effort  to 
find  a  part  of  that  which  I  have  lost,  and  I  believe  I 
shall  find  her,  and  here  in  this  city." 

He  sat  for  a  while,  gazing  with  a  vacant  stare  at 
the  glowing  grate  before  him,  and  as  the  light  played 
around  features  from  which  all  had  vanished  save  a 
faint  gleam  of  hope,  I  asked  myself  with  a  bitterness 
that  I  could  not  stifle,  what  has  this  man  done  that  he 
should  be  driven  to  bear  about  with  him  through  life 
such  a  sorrow  as  this?    Suddenly  arousing  himself,  he 


92 


Prostitution  in  JVew  York. 


took  from  his  pocket  the  photograph  of  which  he  had 
spoken,  and  handed  it  to  me.  I  took  it  with  a  shud- 
der. I  had  seen  the  original  the  day  before  on  the  street. 

He  caught  in  a  moment  my  changed  expression,  but 
I  gave  him  no  satisfaction,  though  my  course  was  at 
once  resolved  upon,  and  bidding  him  a  hasty  good 
night,  bade  him  call  early  the  next  morning,  at  which 
time  I  promised  him  I  would  be  ready  for  the  search 
we  proposed. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  we  stood  at  the 
door  of  the  house  described  in  the  second  chapter  of 
this  volume.  The  woman  who  presided  over  it  then 
was  still  its  mistress,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  made 
her  appearance  in  the  now  faded  but  once  splendid 
saloon.  I  stated  my  errand  at  once,  and  showed  her 
the  picture  of  Annie.  She  informed  us  that  Mary 
Stevens,  who  was  doubtless  the  original  of  that  pho- 
tograph, had  gone  from  her  place  a  few  months  before, 
and  that  she  did  not  know  where  she  could  be  found. 
"  I  never  enquire  where  my  girls  are  going  when  they 
leave  me,"  said  she,  "  and  I  rarely  see  or  hear  from 
them  afterwards." 

I  was  amazed  at  the  change  so  brief  a  period  had 
wrought  in  the  house,  and  the  woman,  who  sat  staring 
at  me  with  the  impudence  characteristic  of  her  class  ; 
and  after  a  moment's  further  conversation,  rose  to  take 
our  leave,  when  an  inmate  of  the  establishment  made  her 
appearance,  and  informed  me  that  Mary  Stevens  had 
been  her  room-mate,  and  that  she  had  gone  to  live  at 
No.  —  Greene  Street,  near  8th,  the  most  notorious 
house  of  its  class  in  New  York;  one  of  those  nonde- 
script haunts  of  vice  seen  nowhere  outside  of  this  city, 
except  in  France,  and  more  filthy  even  than  any  Paris 
can  boast. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


93 


During  the  day  we  called  at  a  large  number  of  par- 
lor houses,  reserving  the  Greene  street  hell  for  the 
evening,  when  the  opportunities  for  seeing  the  inmates 
all  on  the  same  stage  would  enable  us  to  see  her  whom 
we  sought,  without  being  observed  by  her ;  and  I  took 
care  to  conceal  the  real  character  of  the  house  from 
my  companion,  feeling  that  the  knowledge  of  the 
worst,  when  it  came,  as  I  now  felt  it  would,  had  better 
come  to  him  without  anticipation. 

At  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  rang  the  door  bell 
of  the  den  that  gathers  to  itself  nightly  the  cream  of 
New  York's  fast  young  men,  the  brilliant,  dashing 
youths,  who  drive  their  tandems  and  four-in-hands  in 
Central  Park  of  an  afternoon,  the  admired  of  all  ad- 
mirers, and  the  envy  of  the  envious.  Without  stop- 
ping to  look  about  us,  we  passed  along  to  the  saloon 
made  notorious  for  being  altogether  unique,  if  the 
word  can  be  used  in  such  a  connection,  in  the  charac- 
ter of  its  exhibitions.  It  seems  incredible  to  those  un- 
acquainted with  this  phase  of  crime,  in  the  way  of  a 
disgusting  exhibition,  that  any  woman,  not  born  and 
bred  to  prostitution,  could  ever  be  brought  to  forget 
that  she  was  once  human,  and  still  take  a  part  in  such 
obscene  revels  as  were  nightly  witnessed  at  this  place. 
Beastliness  is  not  a  name  for  it,  because  even  beasts 
have  in  them  something  of  decency,  in  the  gratifica- 
tion of  their  animal  propensities  and  appetites,  and  it 
would  seem  that  a  woman$  or  what  was  once  a  woman, 
who  could  find  a  real  excitement  in  exhibiting  herself 
naked  to  a  crowd  of  bachanals,  had  reached  that  an- 
omalous condition  where  a  correct  and  satisfactory 
classification  of  her  among  the  animals  is  impossible. 
Nevertheless  here  she  is,  and  brought  here  in  part  by 
her  own  volition,  and  partly  by  circumstances,  many 


94 


Prostitution  in  -New  York. 


of  which  go  far  toward  a  mitigation  of  her  terrible 
crime. 

But  here  we  are.  The  saloon  is  lighted  with  a 
thousand  jets.  Every  accessory  of  light  and  color, 
gilding  and  tinsel,  are  brought  to  bear  upon  the  scene. 
Soon  we  shall  witness  for  ourselves  the  unanswerable 
evidence  that  woman,  with  all  her  native  delicacy  of 
feeling,  her  fine  sense  of  what  is  proper  in  manner,  her 
natural  sensitiveness,  in  all  of  which  she  is  man's  ac- 
knowledged superior,  is,  after  all,  when  once  she  has 
fallen,  less  susceptible  to  shame  than  man  would  be 
under  the  same  conditions,  and  under  the  same  circum- 
stances. 'We  leave  the  problem,  to  those  moralists  and 
scientists  who  make  the  idiosyncracies  of  humau  na- 
ture, and  especially  of  women,  their  study,  for  solution. 

We  are  seated,  my  friend  and  I,  and  on  looking  at 
him  I  discover  a  mournful  light  in  his  faded  eye  that 
tells  me  he  comprehends  all,  and  that  his  Annie  is 
hovering  near  him,  not  in  the  guise  of  an  angel,  like 
the  mother,  now  in  heaven,  who  bore  her,  but  as  a 
creature  fit  only  for  the  companionship  of  demons. 

The  curtain  rises  upon  a  group  of  naked  women,  in 
the  most  obscene  postures.  There  is  the  hush  that 
follows  expectation,  followed  by  the  ribalt  jest,  the  ob- 
scene remark,  a  yell  of  approval,  and  the  curtain  falls. 
Annie  was  not  in  that  group,  for  the  father's  eye  was 
not  an  indifferent  one.  It  had  been  strained  to  its  ut- 
most tension  of  nerve  power,  and  with  the  fall  of  the 
only  rag  that  concealed  the  nude  forms  of  these 
wretched  creatures,  came  a  sigh  of  relief. 

I  looked  up  at  my  companion  again.  "  I  want  to 
go  away  from  here,"  he  said,  and  I  shall  regret  it  as 
long  as  I  live  that  I  did  not  second  his  desire,  and  take 
him  at  once  from  the  place;  but  we  had  gone  there  for 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


9'j 


a  purpose,  and  I  wanted  to  see  it  accomplished,  though 
lie,  poor  fellow,  would  have  been  saved  a  stab  that 
went  straight  to  his  heart  when  it  came. 

Another  scene, — but  in  this  there  are  fewer  figures, 
and  that  of  Annie  is  the  most  prominent.  Her  form 
Was  as  near  perfection  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  but 
[  was  gratified,  because  the  circumstance  illustrated 
a  pet  theory  of  my  own,  to  see  that  she,  of  all  the  rest, 
was  the  only  one  that  showed  a  feeling  of  mortifica- 
tion at  the  disgusting  exhibition.  The  father  rose  to 
go,  but  sank  back  into  his  chair  exhausted.  He  had 
not  found  Annie  after  all,  but  in  place  of  her,  the 
faded  remnant  of  what  was  once  a  guileless,  pure,  in- 
nocent child,  and  that  child  the  fruit  of  his  own 
loins. 

I  took  his  arm  and  led  him  from  the  room,  but  all 
he  did  and  said  after  that  was  merely  mechanical.  He 
was  brought  by  one  rude  shock  at  last  to  be  only  the 
walking  shadow  of  what  had  once  been  a  trusting, 
loving,  simple-minded,  but  really  noble  man.  The 
wreck  was  complete,  and  it  was- wrought  in  an  instant. 
He  had  found,  at  last,  his  Annie,  and  I  had  met, 
for  the  third  time,  the  face  that  had  haunted  me 
from  the  moment  I  saw  it  ascending  the  stairs  at 
Madam  ,  till  the  rising  of  the  curtain  that  dis- 
closed it  again. 

On  reaching  the  hall  that  led  to  the  saloon,  he  gath- 
ered nerve  enough  to  say  that  he  wished  to  go  at  once, 
and  without  seeing  his  daughter.  "  It  is  all  over 
now,"  he  mumbled,  "I  never  want  to  see  her  again." 
I  suggested  that  there  was  still  hope  that  she  might  be 
reclaimed,  and  mentioned  the  circumstance  of  her  ap- 
parent mortification.  "Yes,  I  saw  it,"  he  rejoined, 
4*  but  it's  too  late.    We  couldn't  live  together  again. 


90 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


It  wouldn't  be  my  Annie,  you  know,  she's  gone.  I 
shall  never  see  her  again." 

For  the  moment  I  felt  that  I  was  myself  the  cause 
of  his  present  grief,  a  sorrow  that  surpassed  in  its 
mute  depths  any  that  I  had  ever  seen  or  expect  to 
witness  again.  He  could  not  recall  without  a  shudder 
the  memory  of  the  naked,  disgusting  figure,  that  he 
had  seen,  and  that  it  was  the  same  that  he  had  hug- 
ged to  his  breast  as  a  babe,  now  transformed  by 
passion,  lust  and  disease,  to  a  thing  more  hideous  than 
any  he  had  ever  seen. 

Meantime  I  had  sent  the  keeper  of  the  house  to  say 
to  her  that  Annie  was  waited  for  in  a  private  apart- 
ment to  which  we  had  been  shown,  and,  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, after  making  an  amazingly  elaborate  toilet, 
as  if  to  contrast  with  the  late  utter  want  of  it,  she 
made  her  appearance. 

The  recognition  was  instantaneous  but,  for  a  mo- 
ment, a  most  painful  one  to  each  of  us,  not  a  word 
was  spoken.  When  the  silence  was  at  last  broken, 
it  was  by  herself.  There  were  no  tears,  no  em- 
brace, no  outward  indication  indeed  that  these  two 
had  ever  met  before,  yet  each  had  lived  a  lifetime  in 
the  brief  interval  we  have  marked. 

"  You  have  come  to  take  me  home,"  were  the  first 
words  she  uttered.  "  Do  you  suppose  that  anything 
could  induce  me  to  carry  from  this,  to  you,  horrid 
place,  (the  only  home  on  earth  left  to  me),  the  load 
of  shame  I  have  borne  through  these  long,  weary 
years  ?  Go  back  to  the  home  I  have  disgraced  ? 
Never  !    I  ask  only  to  be  let  alone." 

The  father  replied  with  touching  dignity,  but  in  a 
way  that  told  how  great  was  the  struggle  going  on 
within  him,  that  return  to  the  old  home  was  impossi- 


Prostitution  in  J\Tevj  York. 


97 


ble.  The  old  homestead,  too,  had  gone  into  other 
hands,  but,  he  suggested  with  a  shudder,  that  they 
could  go  to  some  unknown  place,  and  settling  among 
strangers,  begin  life  again.  She  shook  her  head,  but 
was  too  much  overcome  to  speak. 

He  rose  to  go,  and  as  he  was  about  to  leave  the 
room,  handed  her  the  picture  that  led  to  her  identifi- 
cation, and  another,  that  of  her  mother,  of  whom, 
strange  to  say,  she  had  not  spoken  a  word.  She 
clutched  the  picture,  and  sank  down  upon  the  floor  in 
an  agony  of  grief.  It  had  revived  the  whole  past,  and 
she  was  living  it  over  again.  The  memory  of  her 
mother  had  roused  what  little  was  left  in  her  that  was 
human.  On  being  told  that  she  had  died  two  years 
before,  she  did  not  shed  a  tear,  but  showed,  on  the 
contrary,  a  feeling  of  relief,  a  feeling,  attested  by  her 
remark,  that  she,  at  least,  had  gone  where  suffering  was 
unknown.  She  retained  the  pictures,  but  refused  to 
listen  to  any  further  suggestions  about  quitting  the  life 
she  was  living. 

Morris,  after  effecting  her  ruin,  had  placed  her  in 
the  house  in  which  I  had  first  met  her,  and  of  which 
he  was  the  paid  agent.  She  never  saw  him  but  once 
or  twice  after  entering  the  place  that  hid  her  from  the 
world's  scorn,  but  she  admitted  that  she  would  go  with 
him  now,  gladly,  to  any  place  on  earth.  As  for  her 
father,  between  him  and  herself  was  a  gulf,  made  by 
herself,  that  never  could  be  passed,  and  with  no  de- 
monstration at  parting,  on  the  part  of  either,  of  any- 
thing like  affection,  we  left  her  to  the  life  she  had 
chosen. 

The  father  wrote  me  for  a  time  after  leaving  the 
city,  which  he  did  the  next  morning,  but  after  a  time 
his  letters  ceased,  and  a  little  less  than  a  month  ago  I 


OS 


PsOstitution  in  New  York. 


received  the  tidings  of  his  death.  He  began  to  fail 
from  the  moment  he  returned  to  the  place  that  had 
been  his  old  home.  The  friend  who  had  loaned  him 
the  last  dollar  expended  in  so  fruitless  a  search,  watch- 
ed over  him  until  the  last  heart-string  snapped,  and  he 
dropped  into  the  grave  a  broken-hearted  man. 

The  scenes  I  have  described  in  this  chapter  are  true 
to  the  letter  and  I  have  given,  moreover,  as  nearly  as  it 
is  possible  from  memory,  the  conversations  as  they  oc- 
curred, word  for  word.  The  picture  is  not  a  pleasant 
one  for  the  contemplation  of  any  who  appreciate  the 
sacredness  of  a  home  in  which  love,  and  comfort,  and 
confidence  are  supreme,  but  it  shows  to  the  dwellers 
in  these  homes  that  when  once  the  devil  of  lust,  or 
passion,  or  an  insane  ambition  for  show,  enters  and 
takes  possession,  what  was  once  a  home,  is  forever 
after  a  hell.  The  blight  once  there,  soon  extends  its 
withering  touch  to  every  branch  of  the  family  tree. 

When  such  scenes  as  these  are  occurring  in  this 
great  Sodom  almost  every  day  of  our  lives,  can  pru- 
dery and  moral  squeamishness  say  that  it  must  be 
.  held  guiltless  in  the  do-nothing  policy  which  marks 
our  treatment,  or  rather  want  of  treatment,  of  this 
great  overshadowing  evil  ? 

Are  we  of  the  19th  century  worse  than  the  Jewish 
adulterers,  to  whom  Christ  said,  "let  him  who  is  with- 
out offence,  cast  the  first  stone  ?"  It  would  seem  that 
the  time  has  fully  come  when  the  dictates  of  a  com- 
mon humanity  should  lead  us  to  forget  the  enormity 
of  the  offence  in  a  really  Christian  effort  to  improve 
the  condition,  and,  if  possible,  the  life  of  the  offender, 
and  if  our  advanced  modern  Christianity  is  unequal 
to  the  task  of  performing  a  plain,  simple  duty  like  this 
it  owes  to  these  forlorn  and  degraded  outcasts,  it  needs 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


99 


itself  to  be  thoroughly  and  speedily  reformed.  If 
Christianity  means  anything,  it  means  an  honest, 
heartfelt,  active  effort  to  diminish  crime  and  to  reform 
the  criminal,  without  distinction.  If  Christ  himself 
could  become  the  companion  of  Mary  Magdalen,  what 
shall  be  said  of  those  who  pretend  to  be  his  followers, 
who  will  not,  in  their  immaculate  purity,  permit 
themselves  to  name  even,  much  less  sympathise,  with  the 
condition  bodily,  mentally,  and  socially,  of  the 
thirty  thousand  Magdalens  that  ply  their  trade  un- 
disturbed in  this  city  ?  Here  is  indeed  a  field  for  true 
missionary  work,  but  where,  pray,  are  the  missiona- 
ries ?  Have  they  fled  at  the  first  approach  of  a  lewd 
woman  in  their  own  streets,  to  find  comfort  and  con- 
solation in  a  new  and  more  congenial  field  among  the 
fornicators  of  the  Sandwich  Islands  ?  The  home  field 
is  not  an  inviting,  nor  is  it  a  clean  one,  but  there  is 
no  other  so  much  neglected,  and  none  which,  if  culti- 
vated in  the  true  Christian  spirit,  would  yield  a  more 
abuudant  harvest.    Who  will  enter  it  ? 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  ROAD  TO  RUIN. — FROM  FIFTH  AVENUE  TO  WATER 
STREET.  "  HIGH-TONED  "  HOUSES. 

A  great  city  like  this  is  •  a  world  in  miniature,  and 
there  is  perhaps  no  other  of  its  size  on  the  globe  that 
presents  so  many  social  contrarieties  and  oddities,  such 
a  mixture  of  odds  and  ends  in  the  way  of  nationalities, 
and  populations  gathered  in  from  every  quarter  of  the 
earth.  When  it  is  considered  that  the  foreign  elements 
that  form  fully  one-half  of  these,  come,  in  the  main, 
from  the  middle  and  lower  classes  of  Europe,  the  great 
variety  is  both  anomalous  and  enigmatic  in  its  make- 
up. To  reduce  such  a  medley  of  contradictions  in 
thought,  customs,  manners,  and  habits,  and  above  all, 
in  creeds,  to  a  homogenous  mass,  could  scarcely  be  ex- 
pected of  even  the  "  best  government  on  earth,"  and 
in  a  country,  or  under  a  form  of  government  in  which 
individual  freedom  is  the  rule,  next  to  impossible. 

Between  Fourteenth  street,  now  a  down-town  local- 
ity, and  the  Battery,  can  be  found  in  full  blast  at  this 
moment,  every  mode  of  life  and  living,  known  to  civil- 
ization, with  now  and  then  a  dash  of  heathenism  such 
as  may  be  seen  any  day  in  the  new  Chinese  Temple  in 
Baxter  street,  dedicated  to  the  worship  of  a  half-dozen 
or  more  wooden  chunks,  which  pass  among  their  de- 
votees for  gods  of  the  first  water.  The  pine  hills  of 
Norway,  the  sunny  vales  of  France  and  Italy,  the 
ranches  of  Mexico,  the  islands  of  the  Mediterranean, 


Prostitution  in  JYew  York. 


101 


Germany  and  the  British  Islands,  South  America  and 
China,  each  contributes  its  modicum  of  a  great  whole, 
that  has  no  exact  counterpart  anywhere  else  on  earth — 
creeds,  races  and  conditions  all  mingled  together,  in  a 
batch  that  defies  analysis,  or  even  description. 

From  the  days  of  the  good  Peter  Stuyvesant  until 
now,  it  has  been  the  nestling-place  of  the  pauper  pop- 
ulations of  Europe.  Here  they  have  come  to  set  up 
life  on  their  own  account.  We  have  been  a  sort  of 
patchwork,  under  which  crept  all  that  shunned  the 
light  of  day.  Add  to  this  the  political  profligacy  in- 
duced by  this  mingling,  and  which  culminated  under  a 
ring,  the  majority  of  which  were  born  on  foreign  soil, 
and  the  case  presents  itself  in  its  very  worst  aspect, 
and  one  that  calls  for  commiseration  as  well  as  cen- 
sure. It  is  no  wonder,  then,  that  virtue  within  its  limits 
should  be  held  at  a  discount,  a  cheap  commodity  at 
best,  to  be  possessed  and  worn  by  a  few  over-pious  and 
puritanical  people.  In  a  soil  so  rank,  what  wonder 
that  the  foul  weed  of  prostitution  flourishes  to  such  a 
degree  that  it  threatens  to  overrun  the  whole  garden  ? 

We  have  grown  to  a  population  of  a  million  of  souls, 
and  have  had  a  rich  and  most  suggestive  experience, 
and  yet  we  have  not  learned  from  it  how  to  distribute 
in  a  systematic  way,  this  helpless  human  mass  that 
comes  to  our  shores  at  the  rate  of  two  hundred  thou- 
sand a  year.  Born  to  poverty  and  its  invariable  ac- 
companiments, idleness  and  crime,  panel  houses,  gam- 
bling hells,  prostitution  in  all  its  grades,  and  crime  of 
every  sort  known  to  criminals,  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  that  justice  herself  should  stand  appalled  in 
the  presence  of  such  an  array  of  all  that  is  vile  and 
unmanageable.  A  journey  through  its  gilded  hells, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  from  the  places  whore 


102 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


all  that  money  can  buy  to  tempt  the  appetite  and  teed 
the  passions,  down  to  the  basement,  reeking  with  filth 
and  filled  with  pestilence,  can  be  had  for  the  trouble 
of  making  it,  would  well  repay  our  kid-gloved 
moralists  and  philanthropists  who  roll  in  luxury,  during 
the  week,  and  sniffle  for  an  hour  or  two  on  Sunday, 
like  the  Peeksniffs  that  they  are,  over  the  crimes  and 
the  sins  of  this  thrice-cursed  city. 

The  bare  fact,  that  the  houses  of  ill-fame  alone  in  this 
city,  were  they  confined  to  one  street,  would  make  an 
avenue,  covered  on  botli  sides  three  miles  long,  does 
not  speak  volumes  for  our  purity,  but  adds  a  new  sig- 
nificance to  the  statement  that  only  one  out  of  every 
twenty  of  our  women  are  chaste.  If  any  one,  no 
matter  what  his  opinions  concerning  the  "  social  evil" 
may  be,  or  of  the  means  to  be  used  for  its  regulation  or 
suppression,  will  go  with  me  through  all  the  grades 
of  these  houses  that  can  be  found  between  Fifth  Ave- 
nue and  Water  street,  keeping  his  eyes  wide  open  to 
the  manner  in  which  these  creatures  live,  who  sell 
themselves  for  any  price  between  ten  dollars  and  as 
many  cents,  he  will  be  in  a  fit  condition  to  cease  moral- 
izing, and  in  a  state  of  preparation  for  action,  if  indeed, 
the  sight,  taken  as  a  whole,  should  not  have  the  effect 
to  paralyze  effort  at  the  very  start.  Whatever  the 
result,  he  could  never  plead  ignorance  after  such  an 
experience,  and  we  wish  all  virtuous  New  York 
were,  for  its  own  sake,  as  well  as  of  those  who 
would  doubtless  be  benefited  by  it,  compelled  to 
make  the  pilgrimage.  It  would  be  far  more  interest- 
ing and  more  profitable  than  the  one  recently  made  by 
some  pious  people  to  the  Pope.  They  returned  in  an 
ecstatic  spasm  over  the  blessing  of  his  Holiness, 
these  would  return   with  a  healthy  desire  to  do 


Prostitution  in  JVcw  York, 


103 


penance  for  their  wilful  neglect  of  those  who  get  for 
blessings  nothing  but  curses. 

Let  us  take  a  look  at  one  of  these  gilded  up-town 
haunts.  It  is  about  midnight,  and  the  glare  from  a 
hundred  jets  covers  the  scene  with  a  kind  of  halo  that 
sooner  or  later  goes  out  in  darkness.  Seated  at  the 
tables  of  this  superb  saloon,  in  close,  familiar  conver- 
sation with  living  rottenness,  covered  with  paint  and 
satin,  are  New  York's  richest,  most  brilliant,  and  most 
"respectable"  citizens.  Most  of  these  you  see  have  fami- 
lies that  constitute  the  cream  of  our  society.  Many  of 
them  keep  mistresses  besides,  in  establishments  sup- 
ported by  themselves.  They  come  here  for  amuse- 
ment and  excitement,  to  while  away  an  hour,  take  a 
glass  of  champagne,  and  listen  to  the  charming  noth- 
ings that  come  from  the  lips  of  these  Metropolitan 
Cleopatras. 

Houses  of  this  class  are  not  very  numerous,  for  the 
reason  that  those  who  used  to  patronize  them  altogeth- 
er, are  able  now  to  keep  up  a  private  establishment  in 
addition  to  that  of  the  family,  and  for  the  reason  be- 
sides, that  assignation  houses  have  taken  their  place, 
to  some  extent.  Expensive  as  they  are,  and  free  from 
disease,  in  the  main,  they  are  a  little  too  indiscriminate 
for  the  delicate  and  fastidious  tastes  of  either  old  or 
young  America.  In  these  houses,  Shoddy  enters 
largely  as  an  element  with  its  stuffed  wallet  and  fine 
suppers.  Here  congregate  the  politicians  who  have 
won  their  way  to  the  now  wide-open  public  purse. 
You  know  these  by  their  swagger,  and  the  lavish  way 
in  which  they  dispose  of  the  means  derived  from  official 
perquisites.  They  have  grown  so  numerous  since  the 
war  came,  that  they  form  a  powerful  class  by  them- 
selves. 


104 


Prostitution  in  New  YbrJc. 


Some  of  the  women  in  this  house  are  not  only  beau* 
tifulj  but  intelligent ;  and  others,  of  manners  and  con- 
versation so  high-toned,  and  indicative  of  early  culture 
and  pleasant  associations,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe 
at  first  sight  that  such  a  place  is  nothing  after  all  but 
a  house  of  prostitution,  but  as  the  evening  wanes  the 
"  looker-on  in  Yenice  "  will  find  that  wine  and  the  ex- 
citements engendered  by  a  free-and-easy  contact,  have, 
to  some,  though  not  to  a  positively  vulgar  extent, 
brought  these  better-class  creatures  of  pleasure  down 
to  as  low  a  level  as  they  can  reach  in  houses  of  this 
class.  A  year  or  two  of  this  sort  of  living  brings  the 
shrunken  form,  the  faded  eye  and  complexion,  the 
careless  habits,  and  oftimes  disease,  either  of  which 
sends  the  prostitute  one  step  lower  in  the  road  to  ruin. 

Yonder  is  a  brunette  in  mauve  satin,  who  has  been 
here  three  years,  an  unusually  long  period  for  any  wo- 
man to  remain  in  any  one  house.  She  has  managed, 
by  extreme  care  and  tolerably  temperate  habits,  aided 
by  a  constitution,  that  outside  of  this  place  would  have 
carried  her  through  a  long  life,  to  hold  her  own  well 
enough  to  be  still  fit  for  the  companion  ship  of  the 
scions  of  New  York's  very  best  people.  Next  year  at  * 
farthest,  will  find  her  in  a  less  rich,  but  far  brighter 
costume,  put  on  to  conceal  the  ravages  of  a  shameless 
life,  but  which  will,  in  reality,  make  her  fading 
charms  more  apparent;  and  yet  it  is  amazing,  as  I  look 
at  her,  to  think  how  much  of  personal  beauty  has  been 
preserved  to  her  through  all  these  years  of  daily  and 
nightly  dissipation,  to  say  nothing  of  the  remorse  that 
these  creatures  suffer  at  this  stage  of  their  progress 
down  the  hill. 

Her  history  is  a  curious  one,  and  stands  as  a  counter- 
part or  type  of  thousands  of  similar  ones  to  be  met 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  105 

with  m  these  places.  Descended  from  one  of  the  best 
Virginia  families,  with  the  blood  of  the  Lees  and  the 
Masons,  it  is  said,  running  in  her  veins,  she  was  sent 
North  a  few  years  ago  to  be  educated  at  one  of  our 
up-town  fashionable  schools.  During  her  stay  there, 
she  had  permission  at  times  to  visit  a  family  of  wealth 
but  of  "  loud  "  manners  and  loose  associations.  There 
she  met  a  man  more  famous  than  any  other  of  his 
time,  for  the  conquests  he  had  made  over  innocence 
and  purity,  and  whose  harem  exceeded  for  years  in 
the  number  and  beauty  of  its  members,  that  of  any 
Turk  who  ever  lived.  The  moment  his  lustful  eye  met 
that  of  this  most  voluptuous  young  creature,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  her  his  own,  and  in  less  than  two  years 
after  her  arrival  in  New  York,  she  became  his  mistress. 
!No  effort  was  ever  made  by  her  family  to  reclaim  her. 
She  had  gone  back  on  blood  and  breeding,  and  these 
never  forgive  so  great  an  injury  to  themselves  as  she 
had  committed.  When  she  goes  hence  she  will  lose 
all  self-respect,  but  she  will  not  be  likely  to  go  much 
farther  the  way  she  is  going.  She  will  grow  tired  of 
life  after  the  excitement  in  which  she  now  lives  is  over, 
then  will  come  despair,  and  then  the  final  plunge  into 
some  of  the  waters  that  surround  the  city.  When  that 
comes,  the  chronicle  that  records  it  will  be  brief. 

"  One  more  unfortunate, 
Weary  of  breath, 
Pwashly  importunate, 
Gone  to  her  death. n 

As  the  little  gem  from  Tom  Hood,  from  which  the 
above  lines  are  borrowed,  runs  through  my  memory, 
I  feel  for  the  first  time  how  fit  it  was  that  the  sweetest, 
and  perhaps  only  requium  ever  chanted  over  the  grave 


106 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


of  a  prostitute  should  have  been  penned  by  a  man 
whose  domestic  life  was  as  sweet  and  pure,  as  purity 
itself  and  who  in  all  his  poverty,  as  well  as  through 
the  few  successful  years  of  authorship  that  finally 
came  to  him,  never  forgot  to  sing  the  songs  that  wrent 
straight  to  the  homes  of  the  poor,  the  oppressed,  or  the 
fallen. 

The  women  that  remain  longest  in  houses  of  this 
kind  are  of  that  class  who  receive  special  attentions 
and  support  from  some  favorite,  and  the  morbid  ten- 
derness, for  such  it  really  is,  that  such  a  one  invariably 
exhibits  toward  the  man  that  takes  the  place  in  her  af- 
fections of  lover,  brother,  husband  or  friend,  and  he  is 
all  these  in  one,  is  sometimes  most  touching.  The 
secret  of  this  seems  to  lie  in  the  fact  of  the  utter  iso- 
lation from  all  that  is  human  in  the  way  of  affection, 
to  which  these  creatures  are  doomed.  Another  fact, 
and  a  most  touching  one,  explains  the  tenacity  with 
which  these  cling  to  the  worst  specimens  of  male  hu- 
manity ;  and  that  is  the  natural  longing,  even  in  an 
abandoned  woman,  to  find  some  man,  however  un- 
worthy, upon  whom  she  can  lavish  what  is  left  of  a 
pure  womanhood;  and  it  is  a  noticeable  indication  that 
these  rarely  become  so  transformed  that  they  cannot 
be  touched  by  any  attention  that  looks  to  such  a  rela- 
tion a  most  potent  argument  to  show  that  low,  and 
depraved,  and  beastly  as  she  too  often  becomes,  there 
can  always  be  found  in  the  heart  of  the  most  degraded 
prostitute,  a  chord  that  will  vibrate  to  a  touch  of  any- 
thing that  looks  like  affection  or  kindliness,  an  illustra- 
tion as  well  of  the  theory  that  the  idea  of  home  comes 
not  from  necessity,  or  self-interest,  but  that  it  has  its 
sure  foundations  in  that  native  aspiration  of  every  hu- 
man soul  tor  a  place  so  sacred  and  so  secure  from  intru- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


107 


sion  that  around  it  may  safely  he  centred  the  heart's 
choicest  affections.  So  with  the  prostitute  in  thus  lite- 
rally surrendering  her  all,  even  though  it  be  to  some 
base  creature  who  deserts  her  without  a  pang,  as  he 
woulfl  a  beast  that  has  grown  old  in  his  service,  she 
yet  finds  some  compassion  in  the  vague  fancy,  born  of 
the  feeling  we  have  described,  that  she  is  really  loved 
in  return.  More  than  this,  the  relation  of  mistress, 
impure  and  immoral  though  it  be,  and  the  most  po- 
tent enemy  of  a  pure  domestic  life,  it  suggests  to  the 
prostitute,  nevertheless,  in  a  far-off  way,  the  true  mar- 
riage state,  the  condition  above  all  others  that  every 
woman  desires  at  some  period  of  her  existence,  a  long- 
ing that  shines  out,  dimly  it  may  be  at  times,  but 
which  is,  after  all,  the  grand,  redeeming,  conspicuous, 
indestructible  passion,  running  like  a  golden  thread 
through  the  web  and  woof  of  an  otherwise  utterly 
abandoned  life. 

But  I  am  moralizing  and  digressing.  The  man  at 
that  table,  tossing  off  a  glass  of  wine,  is  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  young  lawyers  of  this  city.  He  came 
here  from  a  town  in  New  Jersey,  a  few  years  ago,  with 
a  private  reputation  unspotted  ;  to-night  he  is  paving 
the  way  that  will  lead  him  in  a  year  or  two,  down  to 
a  worse  than  drunkard's  grave.  Dissipation,  overwork, 
high  living  and  women,  are  doing  their  work  surely, 
and  with  a  rapidity  of  which  he  himself  is  unconscious. 

To  the  uninitiated  the  scene  before  us  is  a  curious 
one.  Works  of  art,  beautiful  women,  rare  pictures, 
brilliant  talk,  men,  married  and  young,  with  now  and 
then  a  youth  that  should  still  be  in  leading  strings,  are 
the  leading  features.  Coming  from  this  place  one 
night  with  a  party  of  friends  I  had  ciceroned,  one  of 
my  companions,  of  a  more  philosophic  turn  than  the 


108 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


rest,  propounded  the  following  questions :  "  Why,"  said 
be,  "is  not  some  organized  effort  made  by  women 
themselves  to  preserve  their  own  sex  from  such  a  course 
as  this  ?  "  Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  prompted 
by  his  own  reflections  upon  the  scene  he  had  witnessed, 
he  solved  the  problem  to  his  own  satisfaction  in  this 
way.  "  This  love-longing  uppermost  in  every  woman's 
heart,  makes  women  the  rivals  of  each  other  in  a  most 
unequal  contest.  The  plain,  homely,  but  it  may  be, 
sensible  woman,  stands  but  a  poor  chance  when  beauty, 
wealth,  brilliancy  and  high  social  position  are  her  com- 
petitors for  personal  attentions,  and  born  of  this  bitter 
rivalry,  is  the  dislike  that  women  bear  each  other  in  a 
social  way,  anywhere,  in  short,  where  this  spirit  of  ri- 
valry plays  anything  like  a  conspicuous  part."  "  It  is 
a  fact,"  he  continued,  "  that  women  seldom  deal  gen- 
erously with  women,  and  yet  if  any  of  these  creatures 
are  to  be  reclaimed,  it  must  be  through  the  efforts  of 
woman  herself ;  and  for  the  simple  reason  that  she  has 
not  been  the  direct  cause  of,  or  a  partner  in,  the  ruin 
of  such  of  her  sex  as  have  chosen  lives  of  infamy. 
Christian  women  should  rise  above  this  prejudice 
against  a  fallen  rival,  and  set  themselves  to  work  to 
perform  a  plain  duty.  As  society  is  now  constituted, 
all  others,  save  it  may  be  a  few  self-sacrificing  ones, 
always  on  the  alert  to  do  whatever  in  them  lies  for  the 
elevation  of  women,  will  be  deterred  by  prudery  alone 
from  lending  their  influence  and  efforts  in  this  direc- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PARLOR  HOUSES. — NEGRO  HOUSES. 

We  bid  adieu  now  to  about  all  that  is  decent  in  the 
prosecution  of  the  traffic  in  virtue  in  this  city.  We 
have  looked  at  it  as  it  is  plied  in  the  midst  of  our  most 
fashionable  quarters ;  we  have  now  to  look  at  it  in 
faded  colors,  in  frowsy  parlors,  steeped  in  opium,  ab- 
sinthe, bad  whiskey,  that  modern  invention  of  the 
devil,  prostitution  in  rags,  in  the  dance-house,  the  mas- 
querade, the  lowest  saloon,  the  negro  houses,  and,  at 
last,  burrowing  in  the  dark  dens  of  Water  street. 

We  are  now  in  a  parlor  house  of  the  second  grade  in 
Greene  street.  As  we  enter  we  are  greeted  by  a  vil- 
lainous smell  of  escaping  gas  from  worn-out  and  leaky 
chandeliers,  blended  with  that  of  vile  cookery,  and  an 
atmosphere  fetid  with  the  exhalations  of  lungs 
unused  to  oxygen  except  such  of  it  as  come  to  them 
through  this  abominable  medium.  Dinginess  is  every- 
where. Rickety  furniture  gathered  from  Bowery  and 
Chatham  street  auction  rooms,  covered  with  faded 
damask  or  rep,  and  surmounted  with  a  coating  of  dust, 
are  painfully  conspicuous.  A  piano  emits  wheezy, 
metalic,  and  other  nondescripts  in  the  way  of  sound, 
from  the  back  parlor.  The  creature  that  thumps  it 
into  submission,  though  gorgeously  arrayed  in  a  faded- 
out  crimson  silk,  has  barely  sufficient  on  her  in  the 
way  of  clothing,  to  conceal  the  mountain  of  flesh  that 
seems  ready  to  burst  its  cerements.  The  women,  as 
a  rule,  are  natively  course  in  manner  and  feature,  and 


« 

110  Prostitution  in  New  York. 


now,  with  all  the  restraints  of  decency  removed,  are 
absolutely  repulsive. 

It  seems  incredible  that  but  a  single  step  down-  . 
ward  should  bring  us  to  such  an  exhibition  as  this ;  but 
so  it  is,  and  yet  even  here  there  is  a  faint  attempt 
to  keep  up  the  proprieties  that  mark  the  intercourse  of 
common  but  decent  people.  The  dirty  jest,  passes 
from  lip  to  lip  with  a  relish  that  marks  the  depravity 
of  the  bearers  of  it,  and  an  hour  later,  when  the  vile 
stuff  sold  at  these  places  under  the  name  of  wine,  had 
done  its  work,  all  restraint  will  be  thrown  aside,  and  from 
that  time  until  passion  has  exhausted  itself  in  the  ex- 
citement of  the  parlors,  and  has  sought  the  covered  re- 
treat to  finish  out  the  nasty  revel,  there  will  be  no  check 
to  orgies  that  cannot  be  described. 

I  have  talked  with  many  of  these  creatures  in  their 
sober  moments,  and  all  told  the  same  story,  that  they 
were  never  so  happy,  if  the  term  happiness  can  be 
used  in  such  a  connection,  as  when  the  excitement  was 
highest.  After  reaching  this  phase  of  the  life  they 
lead,  the  body  becomes  so  soaked  by  the  atrocious 
stuff  they  eat  and  drink,  that  every  sense  be- 
comes so  blunted  and  morbid  that  brain  and  nervous 
excitement  is  about  all  that  is  left  them. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  us,  Greene  street,  bad  as 
it  is  at  midnight,  seemed  a  paradise  in  comparison  with 
the  den  We  had  left.  Having  still  another  hour,  we 
directed  our  steps  to  a  notorious  negro  house  in  Woos- 
ter  street. 

Whatever  the  causes,  and  there  are  many  doubtless, 
it  is  an  admitted  fact,  that  our  negro  population  fur- 
nish more  examples  of  lewdness  than  any  other  in 
proportion  to  their  numbers.  Driven  to  those  of  their 
own  color  for  companionship,  their  isolation  from  all 


Prostitution  in  Xcw  York.  Ill 

others  except  as  servants,  their  native  indolence,  their 
emotional  natures,  all  tend  to  make  the  colored  woman 
a  free  and  easy  one  in  her  habits.  Since  the  war,  and 
during  its  continuance,  thousands  of  these  came  from 
the  plantations  of  the  South,  and  bringing  their  habits 
of  indiscriminate  mingling  along  with  them,  took  to 
prostitution  for  a  living,  preferring  naturally  that  mode 
of  earning  a  living  to  entering  our  kitchens;  and  it  is 
an  indisputable  fact  that  these  get  down  lower  in  the 
business  than  any  other  of  their  white  sisters.  Desti- 
tute, as  a  rule  of  personal  charms,  they  set  themselves 
up  with  an  eye  to  the  barbarous,  and  when  they  have 
reached  the  lowest  grade,  are  filthy  and  beastly  beyond 
belief. 

A  few  of  these,  taken  from  the  half-breeds,  quad- 
roons and  octaroons,  are  beautiful  in  face,  and  have 
besides  a  vuluptuous  beauty  of  form,  the  result  of  the 
cross  in  blood,  rarely  found  among  the  whites. 

The  place  we  enter  has  for  its  presiding  genius  a 
white  man.  The  patrons  of  this  dusky  abode  are  of 
the  same  hue,  none  others  being  admitted  on  any  ac- 
count, and  for  very  obvious  reasons.  If  one  would 
take  the  trouble  to  step  in  here  for  an  hour  or  two  oc- 
casionally, he  would  wonder  why  Mr.  Sumner  and 
other  men  of  his  stamp  had  insisted  so  long  for  the 
rights  of  the  negro,  for  here  in  this  building  is  the 
interminable  war  of  the  races  coming  to  a  happy  con- 
clusion— so  happy,  indeed,  that  the  white  man  is 
found  nestling  in  the  very  bosom  of  the  race  that  he 
had  so  long  despised,  and  thus  the  long  looked  for  niil- 
lenium  has  burst  upon  us  from  the  dusky  dens  of 
Wooster  street. 

Who  shall  say  nay  to  this  solution  of  a  grave  ques- 
tion ? 


112 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


One  would  naturally  suppose  that  if  there  was  a 
place  on  earth  where  the  proud,  blue-eyed,  flaxen- 
haired  Saxon  could  meet  his  colored  brother  on  terms 
of  absolute  and  fraternal  equality,  it  would  be  in  a 
colored  house  of  prostitution.  Nevertheless  we  arc 
doomed  to  disappointment  again.  There  is  still  a  pro- 
viso to  be  overcome.  The  Saxon  is  willing,  yes,  anx- 
ious to  take  the  colored  sister  to  his  bosom  but  with 
eminently  characteristic  and  dog-in-the-manger-like  ex- 
clusiveness,  rejects  the  colored  brother,  and  thus,  so  to 
speak,  is  the  great  question  of  a  common  brotherhood 
thrown  back  upon  its  haunches,  and  all  through  the 
mulishness  of  the  superior  race. 

The  problem  is  a  curious  and  intricate  one.  We 
have  turned  it  over  in  our  mind,  and  conclude,  sagely, 
we  think,  that  it  involves  grave  questions,  mixed  ques- 
tions, we  may  add  of  ethics,  and  of  esthetics  too,  alto- 
gether beyond  our  poor  comprehension.  The  collate- 
ral queries  of  flavor,  odors,  and  the  still  kinky  and  per- 
plexing capillary  one,  we  give  up  altogether  to  Darwin 
and  the  new  social  scientists. 

Coming  down  or  up  to  the  house  itself,  it  is  a  well- 
ordered  and  cleanly  one,  as  colored  houses  of  the  bet- 
ter class  usually  are,  wherever  found.  The  women  are 
of  all  shades,  except  the  coal  black,  as  the  full-blood, 
flat-nosed  African  would  be  a  little  too  much  for  the 
high-bred  and  delicate  sensibilities  of  the  noblest 
scions  of  New  York's  aristocracy,  in  their  present 
state  of  developement.  Should  we  go  on  at  the  pres- 
ent rate,  however,  the  be-turbaned  and  be-jeweled 
native  of  Africa's  interior  will  soon  be  admitted  to  full 
communion  with  the  sons  of  our  best  people. 

On  the  surface,  in  this  house,  everything  seems  un- 
exceptionable.   The  parlors  are  of  small  account  and 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


113 


small  in  dimensions.  The  men  who  gather  here  prefer 
the  privacy  of  the  up-stair  apartments.  It  would 
compromise  them  perhaps  to  come  face  to  face  with 
each  other,  in  a  public  saloon  or  private  parlor,  each 
with  a  colored  female  hano;in«;  on  his  arm.  This  is  the 
whiter  part  of  this  dirty  business,  as  the  sequel  will 
show.  Farther  down  we  shall  find  the  negro  woman 
of  full  blood  burrowing  in  a  reeking  garret  or  base- 
ment along  with  her  white  paramour.  A  rule  that 
prevails  almost  without  exception  in  ordinary  life,  is 
reversed  here  among  the  colored  prostitutes,  and.  forms 
another  curious  fact.  A  white  man  rarely  cohabits 
with  a  black  woman,  taking  her  to  his  home;  but 
white  women  are  often  found  living  with  negroes  in 
left-handed  marriage. 

A  single  glance  at  the  darker  side  of  this  picture 
will  be  sufficient,  though  it  is  all  black  enough.  In 
New  Church  street,  not  far  from  Canal,  stood,  until 
recently,  a  small  block  of  frame  houses,  with  rickety 
stairs  outside  and  inside,  inhabited  by  both  whites  and 
negroes,  living  separately,  the  negroes  having  no  occu- 
pation, except  to  live  by  prostitution.  On  the  sidewalk, 
in  front  of  this  rookery,  on  any  night,  from  ten  o'clock  to 
midnight,  black  women,  with  scarcely  clothing  enough 
upon  their  persons  to  hide  their  nakedness,  could  be 
seen  soliciting  black  and  white  alike  to  enter  their  dens, 
though  if  asked  the  question  as  to  blacks,  even  these 
half-starved,  emaciated,  and  diseased  creatures  will  tell 
you  that  black  men  are  excluded,  and  that  onljr  "  white 
trash  "  is  admitted  to  their  rooms. 

Passing  over  a  field  of  lumber,  we  reach  the  build- 
ing, and  climb  to  the  second  story,  by  means  of  a  stair- 
way that  threatens,  at  every  moment,  to  give  way  and 
send  us  to  the  darker  regions  below,  to  those  reservoirs 


114  Prostitution  in  New  York. 

of  filth  that  cannot  be  described.  In  the  corner  of  a 
single  room  were  huddled  two  creatures,  one  of  whom 
was  combing  her  knotted  hair.  There  was  no  chair  to 
be  seen,  and  both  crouched  upon  the  floor.  A  rickety 
table,  two  or  three  cups  and  saucers,  and  a  straw  mat- 
tress, without  covering  of  any  sort,  and  so  filthy  that 
one  look  at  it  was  quite  sufficient,  comprised  the  fur- 
niture of  the  apartment.  The  wTindow,  there  was  but 
one,  was  stuffed  with  rags,  the  odors  from  the  bodies, 
and  the  filthy  floors  of  this  horrible  place,  were  al- 
most stifling,  and  the  den  altogether  was  as  wretched 
a  one  as  can  be  imagined.  As  we  stood  there,  with 
our  handkerchiefs  to  our  noses,  questioning  the  two 
women  as  to  their  mode  of  life,  two  white  men  entered 
the  apartment  and  sat  down  upon  the  floor,  and  later, 
a  mulatto  made  his  appearance.  The  party  was  a 
curious  one  as  illustrating  this  peculiar  phase  of  our 
social  life,  and  our  civilization. 

"When  asked  why  they  preferred  such  a  place  as  this 
to  kitchens  where  comfort  and  plenty  could  be  had  by 
working  for  them,  they  replied  that  nobody  would  have 
them  in  their  present  condition,  and  that  it  was  no  use 
to  try  and  get  work,  and  they  were  right.  They  had 
reached  the  point  at  which  reform  in  any  direction, 
through  their  own  efforts,  was  impossible.  The  only 
chance  left  for  them  would  be  that  of  a  speedy  exit  to 
the  Potter's  field. 

Such  is  mixed  prostitution.  We  were  told  not  long 
since  by  a  mulatto  woman  of  decent  manners  and  ap- 
pearance, that  she  had  been  employed  for  years  in 
running  down  South  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  wo- 
men of  her  own  color,  as  mistresses  of  white  men  of 
good  standing,  and  some  of  them  of  wealth,  as  they 
preferred  these  to  women  of  their  own  complexion.  The 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


115 


problem  is  certainly  a  curious  one,  but  it  is  doubtful 
if  this  fact  in  relation  to  it  can  be  taken  as  an  indica- 
tion, after  all,  that  we  are  to  free  ourselves-  at  once 
from  all  prejudice  as  to  color.  We  have,  moreover, 
painted  this  phase  of  prostitution  just  as  we  have  found 
it,  to  the  very  life,  without  gilding  or  exaggeration, 
and  we  have  no  fear  that  any  who  will  read  these 
pages  will  be  lured  thereby  to  any  of  the  dens  we  have 
described.  As  to  the  first  of  these,  we  will  admit  that 
it  presented  not  only  the  best,  but,  speaking  sensually, 
an  attractive  and  alluring  side  to  the  young  man, 
whose  entrance  upon  life  has  not  been  preceded  by  a 
judicious  home  training. 

We  have  had  but  one  object  in  view,  and  that  to 
rouse  a  really  benevolent  and  philanthropic  commun- 
ity to  immediate  action  in  a  very  grave  matter,  one 
that  involves  the  character  and  reputation  of  our  own 
homes,  and  our  own  children.  The  evil  as  it  exists 
here  in  this  city  is  a  disgrace  to  our  civilization,  and  it 
is  a  shame  that  an  evil  so  demoralizing  as  is  this  of 
prostitution,  should  be  allowed  full  sway,  and  without 
the  slightest  effort  being  made  to  check  it  or  modify 
it  in  any  of  its  worst  phases  even.  One  look  at  it  is 
quite  enough  to  convince  the  most  incredulous  and 
skeptical  that  for  beastliness,  prostitution  in  New  York 
city  is  not  equalled  by  all  other  vices  put  together. 

Between  the  grades  we  have  described  there  is,  of 
course,  an  infinite  variety  of  life  in  this  peculiar  domain 
that  we  have  not  touched.  We  have  furnished  the 
frame-work,  the  outline,  together  with  some  of  its  more 
prominent  features,  though,  we  will  add,  not  its  most 
disgusting  ones.  To  have  painted  these  as  they  ac- 
tually appear,  would  make  a  picture  so  bestially  horrid 
that  none  but  the  most  corrupt  would  have  cared  to 


116 


Prostitution  m  New  York. 


look  at  it.  It  is  bad  enough,  but  disgusting  as  it 
is,  it  is  our  business  to  go  to  work  with  mop  in 
hand  first,  and  if  after  this,  our  squeamish,  sensi- 
tive ones,  with  nerves  so  apt  to  quiver  when  pros- 
titution is  mentioned  even,  if,  then,  these  want  to 
sprinkle  over  it  a  little  moral  chloride  of  lime,  or  any 
other  disinfectant,  we  have  not  the  slightest  objection 
to  their  doing  so,  but  we  insist  that  what  is  needed 
now  is  soap,  sand,  and  a  good  stiff  scrub-brush. 

When  to  this  nasty,  technical  picture,  is  added  the 
fighting.,  the  profanity,  the  drunkenness,  and  the  per- 
sonal filth  that  form  its  inevitable  accompaniments, 
you  have,  at  one  swoop,  pandemonium  let  loose. 

Prostitution  being  with  us  a  trade  or  calling,  it  bar 
brought  forth,  as  was  natural,  some  distinguished  in- 
ventors, who  have  managed  to  get  their  improvements 
in  full  and  successful  operation  without  the  trouble  of 
going  to  Washington  for  a  patent.  Being  patronised 
and  used  by  members  of  Congress,  and  others  high  in 
authority,  no  such  process  was  necessary  to  give  them 
currency  or  immunity  from  punishment  or  molestation,* 
and  being  also  patted  on  the  head  by  our  city  officials, 
or  some  of  them,  at  least,  they  have  managed  to  get 
on  and  thrive. 

Among  these  are  the  panel  house,  the  dance  house, 
the  concert  saloon,  and  the  masked  ball,  with  some 
other  refinements  that  we  have  not  the  patience  to  en- 
umerate. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE  CONCERT  SALOONS. 

The  Concert  Saloon  is  a  comparatively  recent  out- 
growth of  prostitution  as  a  business,  and  the  record 
shows  that  they  are  about  one  hundred  in  number  in 
our  city.  The  creatures  who  do  the  waiting  at  these, 
are  chosen  with  special  regard  to  the  amplitude  of 
their  proportions.  A  lean  specimen  in  the  modest  cos- 
tume worn  by  the  cherubs  that  nit  about  these  classic 
halls  would  excite  laughter  only  from  the  lusty  males 
who  patronise  them.  The  waist  of  these  flashy  bean- 
ties  is  the  only  part  of  them  that  boasts  a  covering  of 
any  sort,  so  that  in  their  apparel  there  is  no  waste  of 
material;  indeed  it  is  astonishing  how  little  it  takes  to 
dress  up  one  of  these  houris.  Red  predominates  as  a 
tint  in  their  complexion.  Peggoty's  arms,  that  the 
birds  pecked  at  for  red  apples,  were  doubtless  delicate- 
ly white  compared  with  the  ruddy  redness  of  the  con- 
cert saloon  waiter-girl.  Huge-limbed  and  squabby, 
they  show  in  their  make-up  the  low  breed  of  the  hu- 
man animal  from  which  they  spring,  and  on  a  closer 
inspection,  their  manners,  habits,  language  and  tastes 
will  be  found  in  perfect  harmony  with  their  exterior 
charms. 

Nevertheless,  they  are  exactly  suited  to  the  tastes  of 
those  who  £0  home  with  them  after  their  night's  work 
at  the  saloon  is  over.  There  are  other  men,  or  youths, 
rather,  in  their  second  stage  of  adolescence,  who  drop 
into  these  places  of  a  night,  but  they  rarely  go  any 


118 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


further  than  to  look  in,  and  they  are  the  sons  of  the 
best  of  our  middle-class  folk,  with  now  and  then  a 
scion  of  the  pure  blood,  who  comes  to  chaff  with  the 
girls,  just  to  while  away  an  hour,  and  to  show  a  coun- 
try friend,  mayhap,  the  sights. 

As  the  pay  of  the  girls  consists  chiefly  of  a  percent- 
age upon  the  drinks  she  sells,  she  is  very  industrious, 
and  renders  herself  as  agreeable  as  possible.  The 
music  is  not  of  a  high  order,  as  the  nightly  assaults 
upon  Wagner,  Chapin,  Beethoven,  and  other  compos- 
ers, by  hideously  scraped  cat-gut,  abundantly  attest. 

As  you  enter,  one  of  these  half  naked  creatures,  in 
striped  silk  of  gay  colors,  approaches  you  with  a  grin 
so  bewitching  that  you  drop  into  the  first  chair  that 
offers  and  make  out  your  order  forthwith,  a  process 
that  you  are  expected  to  repeat  early  and  often,  as  do 
the  Tammany  and  Republican  inspectors,  under  the 
new  system  of  cumulative  voting.  When  you  tire 
out  on  the  drinks,  she  will  ask  you  to  go  to  the  saloon 
in  the  rear  of  the  bar,  where  the  music  is  in  full  blast, 
a  place  in  which,  if  your  hearing  is  perfect,  you  will 
quit  at  the  first  opportunity  consistent  with  the  pro- 
prieties of  the  establishment. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  poor  painted  thing  that 
brings  you  your  toddy,  brings  a  glass  for  herself  each 
time,  and  what  is  worse,  tosses  it  off  with  a  relish  that 
is  sad  to  witness.  At  midnight,  or  an  hour  or  two 
later,  she  carries  to  her  boarding  house  an  amount  of 
bad  whisky  that  is  truly  appalling.  Should  you  loose 
your  own  balance,  you  may  be  invited  to  try  your  luck 
at  "  keno,"  and  however  badly  you  may  be  hurt  in 
the  game,  you  must  never  "  squeal,"  because  your  cry 
would  be  heard  by  the  public  ear,  and  then  you  would 
be  in  a  position  to  be  compromised,  which  would 


Prostitution  in  Xew  York.  .  119 


"  hurt,"  you  know,  and  make  home,  if  you  are  mar- 
ried, as  Mr.  Tilton  would  say,  "  a  scene  of  ruin  and 
desolation." 

Of  course  the  bar,  the  music,  nothing  but  the  girls 
themselves,  have  really  any  attractions  for  the  men 
who  visit  these  saloons,  for  all  the  former  are  expen- 
sive nothings,  to  give  the  place  the  appearance  of  one 
of  amusement,  and  to  keep  it  open  in  spite  of  the 
law,  by  paying  the  ordinary  license  fee.  Xumerous 
attempts,  or  feints  rather,  have  been  made  by  the 
police  to  break  up  these  unseemly  exhibitions,  but 
without  success;  but  success  is  not  the  object  of  those 
who  make  them,  and  so  they  nourish  almost  unmo- 
lested and  unheeded  by  our  inefficient  rulers. 

If  public  sentiment  was  what  it  should  be  in  relation 
to  this  social  outrage,  (for  it  is  nothing  else,)  these  places 
would  be  wiped  out  in  a  week,  and  in  a  way  so  sum- 
mary that  they  could  not  be  set  up  again  in  any  part 
of  the  city,  much  less  in  the  very  best  and  most  fre- 
quented positions  of  Broadway.  This  never  can  be  done 
until  the  people  insist  upon  it,  by  electing  to  office 
men  who  will  govern  the  city  in  the  best  interests  of 
her  best  people,  and  keep  right  on,  in  the  same  good 
way.  As  it  is,  there  is  scarcely  a  hell  of  any  sort  in 
this  great  city  of  hells,  whose  keeper  has  not  a  "  friend 
at  court,"  so  powerful  and  so  efficient,  that  a  little 
money  paid  to  the  proper  person,  (and  your  gambling 
saloon  keeper  and  "  badger  "  know  just  who  these  in- 
fluential ones  are,)  will  not  secure  the  immunity  de- 
sired. 

After  all,  and  it  is  not  a  pleasant  theme  for  contem- 
plation, it  must  be  admitted  that  the  concert  saloon  is 
a  natural  and  spontaneous  product  of  our  low  social 
condition.    Are  we  destitute  of  real  refinement  ]  By 


120 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


no  means ;  but  the  difficulty  seems  to  be  that  refine- 
ment cannot  afford  to  soil  its  fingers  with  a  product  so 
disgusting  as  body-selling.  If  help  comes,  it  must 
come  from  those  who  are  neither  so  refined,  nor  so  far 
removed  from  these  poor  degraded  creatures  that  they 
must  needs  stand  aloof  from  them  altogether.  But, 
right  here  even,  we  are  confronted  with  difficulties 
that  seem  insuperable.  Social  looseness  has  invaded 
every  grade  of  our  home  and  social  life,  insomuch  that 
we  look  complacently  upon  the  sin  of  prostitution, 
and  so  fold  our  hands  with  a  kind  of  consciousness  that 
we  ourselves  are  no  better  than  we  should  be,  and  that, 
after  all,  the  evil  is  one  that  must  be  tolerated,  be- 
cause inevitable. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  DANCE-HOUSES. 

In  speaking  of  the  negro  houses,  we  omitted  to 
say,  that  the  lowest  grade  is  not  found  in  regularly- 
kept  houses,  but  in  rooms  usually  occupied  by  two 
forlorn  creatures  who  ply  their  trade,  each  on  her  own 
account.  There  may  be  gradations  still  lower  than 
this,  but  if  so,  we  have  failed  to  find  them,  and  we  have 
stopped  at  no  details,  however  disgusting,  that  we 
could  find,  in  order  that  the  picture  should  be  as  near 
the  true  one  as  it  is  possible  to  get  it. 

The  dance-house  is,  in  our  judgment,  the  lowest, 
if  not  the  very  lowest,  link  of  the  Upas  of  lewdness. 
It  seems  to  have  been  invented  originally  by  some 
fiend  to  catch  the  sailor  on  his  return  from  a  voyage. 
The  first  thing  "  Jack"  wants  when  he  gets  on  shore  is 
a  glass  of  grog,  a  female  companion,  and  then  a  dance ; 
and  when  all  these  are  in  his  possession  there  is  no 
happier  creature  alive,  until  the  last  cent  goes  into  the 
till  of  the  "  lubber"  who  robs  him,  and  then  kicks  him 
into  the  street.  Armed  with  these,  he  will  spend  in  a 
single  week,  the  earnings  of  a  year,  and  do  it  with  a 
lavish  generosity  known  to  no  other  spendthrift.  The 
women  that  burrow  in  these  dens  have,  most  of  them, 
touched  bottom  in  their  business,  and  what  of  filth  or 
bestiality  cannot  be  fonnd  in  a  Water  street  dance- 
house  need  not  be  searched  for  elsewhere.  Ragged, 
bloated,  and  diseased,  they  only  bide  the  time  that 
shall  see  them,  or  all  that  is  left  of  them,  carried  away 


122  Prostitution  in  Wew  YorTc, 

to  the  six  feet  of  earth  which  is  their  last  heritage  on 
earth.  A  picture  of  one  of  these  hells  is  not  flattering 
to  our  self-estimation  or  the  pride  we  feel  in  our  own 
city,  and  the  place  it  occupies  among  the  great  munici- 
palities of  the  world,  but  here  it  is,  and  a  single  one, 
taken  at  random,  fitly  represents  the  whole  wretched 
group. 

The  honr  is  near  midnight.  A  narrow,  vile-smelling 
entrance,  leads  you  to  the  dancing-hall,  which  is,  in 
reality,  a  large  bar-room.  Dingy  tissue  paper,  covered 
with  fly-filth,  festoon  the  walls,  and  obscene  prints  are 
everywhere  to  be  seen.  Benches  ranged  around  the 
sides  of  the  room,  receive  the  bloated  bodies,  it  can 
scarcely  be  said  that  they  have  souls,  of  those  who  have 
become  enraged  with  rum.  There  is  a  miserable  at- 
tempt  to  keep  up  in  the  bar,  the  usual  array  of  decan- 
ters and  glasses,  but  with  ill -success.  Nevertheless 
the  place  itself  is  a  palace  compared  with  the  creatures 
that  spend  in  it  the  last  end  of  their  miserable  lives. 
Mad  with  the  horrible  stuff  dealt  out  to  them  by  the 
human  jackajl  that  grins  from  his  place  among  the 
bottles,  ragged,  and  foul  beyond  the  power  of  mortal 
pen  to  describe,  they  shuffle  over  the  sanded  floors, 
lashing  themselves  literally  into  a  momentary,  deliri- 
ous dream  that  the  dance  is  a  dance  of  pleasure,  instead 
of  one  that  leads  straight  to  death. 

Ghastly  sight,  unequalled  in  its  ghastliness  by  any 
picture  known  to  barbarism  of  the  very  lowest  type. 
Strange  that  civilization  itself  should  be  guilty  of  pro- 
ducing a  phase  of  sensualism  unknown  to  any  record- 
ed period  of  time. 

The  brute  that  keeps  this  place,  is  the  red-fisted  and 
purple  mass  of  flesh  that  lounges  about  the  hall.  His 
occupation  is  a  most  dignified  one,  and  consists  chiefly 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


123 


'I  beating  the  women  that  fill  his  vile  coffers  with 
their  earnings.   How  natural  for  man  to  rule  it  over,  to 
those  weaker  than  himself.    This  creature,  bad  and 
loathesome  as  he  is,  is  a  very  aristocrat  in  his  sphere, 
another  evidence  that  there  is  none  so  low,  in  which 
the  gradations  are  not  kept  up  with  painful  minuteness. 
Here  even  he  is  a  mogul ;  higher  up,  he  would  be  sim- 
ply what  he  is,  a  human  beast.    With  a  cruelty  un- 
known to  any  other  creature,  perhaps,  he  exacts  from 
these  lowest  of  their  kind,  the  last  dollar  of  their  dirty 
earnings,  for  the  poor  privilege  of  sleeping  in  filthy 
rooms  of  his  own  furnishing.    When  all  power  to 
earn  a  dollar  or  two  has  fled,  and  nothing  but  death 
awaits  them,  it  is  alleged  by  those  who  have  gone 
down  to  the  bottom  of  this  one  of  crime's  curiosities, 
that  this  human  nondescript  will  strip  to  very  naked- 
ness, or  as  near  to  it  as  he  dares,  the  poor  creature  who 
spends  the  last  remnant  of  her  life  in  his  service,  and 
then  turn  her  into  the  street.   But  this  is  not  the  worst 
feature  of  these  places.    The  keepers  of  them  are  used 
as  agents  to  single  out  young  and  innocent  girls  from 
beggarly  houses.   Once  here  they  are  ruined,  and  if 
unwilling  to  remain  here,  are  taken  to  houses  of  a  bet- 
ter class,  and  paid  for  per  capita,  as  slaves  are  bought 
in  the  market  place  in  countries  where  they  are  sold, 
body  and  soul,  for  a  viler  purpose  than  slavery. 

If  any  of  our  incredulous  ones  doubt  the  truth  of 
what  we  have  stated,  and  of  which  we  have  not  told 
the  half,  let  him  step  iuto  one  of  these  hells  at  mid- 
night, and  see  for  himself  faces,  from  which  every 
indication  that  it  belongs  to  a  human  being  has  van- 
ished. 

The  scene  upon  which  his  eye  will  rest,  will  be  some- 
thing like  this.     A  dozen  or  more,  perhaps  twenty 


124 


Prostitution  in  New  York, 


bloated  hags,  with  their  partners,  are  getting  ready  for 
a  dance  to  the  catgut  of  a  single  fiddle,  if  indeed  an 
obscene  whirl,  can  be  called  a  dance,  but  it  is  all  the 
same  to  the  dancers ;  it  is  fully  suited  to  their  desires, 
and  that  is  all  there  is  of  it.  When  the  drunken  orgie 
is  over,  the  brief  interval  that  follows  is  filled  with  a 
drink  of  benzine  all  round,  there  is  nothing  in  this  foul 
place  to  drink  so  dignified,  or  so  pure  as  whiskey,  but 
a  vile  decoction  distilled  from  a  chromatic  scale  of  poi- 
sons. When  this  has  done  its  worst,  and  until  the 
scene  below  stairs  is  exchanged  for  that  of  the  foul 
rooms  above,  to  look  at  it,  one  would  suppose  that  hell 
itself  had  been  set  loose  on  earth  ;  for  no  one  in  his 
senses  could  believe  at  first  sight  that  a  place  so  horri- 
ble as  is  this  could  by  any  possibility  be  a  product  of 
aught  short  of  pandemonium. 

The  last  dance  for  the  night  is  over,  and  the  dancers 
reel  to  couches  festering  in  disease.  We  can  go  no  fur- 
ther. He  who  would  see  all  must  go  where  even  a  de- 
tective cannot  go,  if  he  have  left  in  him  any  sense  of 
decency  or  self-respect.  The  maxim  that  vice  to  be 
abhorred  must  be  seen,  has  no  application  to  such  a 
scene  as  we  have  described  from  actual  observation. 
No  man  or  youth  still  unsullied,  should  ever  lay  eyes 
upon  a  dance-house.  It  is  enough  to  know  that  it  is  a 
sad  reality.  Human  nature,  under  its  most  favorable 
aspects  is  bad  enough,  but  this  phase  of  it,  once  thor- 
oughly photographed  upon  the  memory,  reveals  possi- 
bilities of  depravity  and  baseness  in  man  that  can 
never  be  effaced,  or  forgotten, — he  has  experienced  a 
shock  from  which  he  will  never  recover. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


MAFKED  BALLS. 


The  public  masquerade,  as  it  is  now  conducted  in 
this  city,  during  our  winter  season,  is  another  of  the 
refinements  to  which  lewdness  has  given  birth.  That 
lewdness  should  give  birth  to  anything  but  refinements 
is  of  course  not  to  be  expected,  and  we  are  driven, 
therefore,  to  enumerate  them  as  they  come  from  time 
to  time  upon  us  to  startle  and  alarm.  Originally  it 
seems  to  have  been  a  social  gathering  to  which  none 
but  virtuous  and  respectable  women  were  admitted, 
but  after  a  time  all  this  was  changed,  and  the  domino 
is  now  used  to  cover  in  it  the  most  notorious  prosti- 
tutes and  bagnio  keepers  of  the  city.  It  has  now  de- 
generated into  an  amusement  which  no  decent  wom:in 
can  afford  to  patronize  by  her  presence.  Xo  matter 
how  gotten  up,  or  by  whom,  if  it  be  a  public  affair, 
lewd  women  of  the  worst  sort  will  be  there.  The  mas- 
querade is  not  an  altogether  clean  institution  even 
where  it  had  its  origin  in  the  carnival ;  with  as  it  is  a 
whited  sepulchre.  Even  Mons.  Mercier,  with  all  his 
French  tact,  could  not  conceal  its  hideousness  even 
from  the  dullest  American  eyes.  We  are  coming  to 
it  apace,  but  we  have  not  yet  reached  that  social  con- 
dition when  a  woman  of  respectability,  and  good  social 
position,  can,  as  ladies  of  rank  even  do  in  Paris,  go  to 
a  masquerade,  because  they  can  go  incog,  ''just  to  have 
a  little  fun."  Our  morals,  bad  as  they  are,  do  not  quite 
yet  allow  us  so  extended  a  latitude. 


126 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


Since  the  disgusting  exhibition  given  by  the  Societe 
des  hals  d'artistes,  years  ago,  at  the  French  Theatre  on 
Fourteenth  street,  no  New  Yorker  has  been  in  doubt 
as  to  their  character.  The  masque,  a  very  thin  one 
then,  disclosed  features  that  should  have  remained  in 
Greene  and  Mercer  streets,  and  now  no  domino  is 
needed  at  all,  and  the  bal  masque  is  little  better  than 
a  dance-house,  or  concert  saloon.  They  are  now  pa- 
tronized almost  exclusively  by  women  without  an  es- 
cort. The  men  drop  in  during  the  evening  as  conven- 
ience and  inclination  suggests.  ^Nevertheless,  women 
occupying,  prominent  social  positions  go  yet  to  these 
places,  but  they  go  in  a  manner  which,  were  it  known, 
would  banish  them  at  once  from  decent  associations. 
It  is  an  odd  mixture  that  congregates  here.  Let  • 
us  look  in  upon  one,  and,  if  for  the  first  time,  be  aston- 
ished. 

The  floor  of  the  saloon  is  covered  with  masks,  the 
boxes  with  spectators.  Many  of  the  latter  come  from 
French  families  whose  notions  of  what  is  proper  are 
not  what  our  own  are,  and  who  are  not  to  be  held  re- 
sponsible altogether  for  the  difference  in  education. 
At  first  all  goes  smoothly,  as  the  bar-room  has  not  had 
its  effect  to  mystify  the  maskers.  It  will  come  soon. 
Many  of  these  men  are  personally  known  to  us.  Yon- 
der, in  ordinary  costume,  his  only  disguise  being  a 
domino  that  is  not  a  disguise — is  a  jolly,  but  well- 
known  city  official.  Yonder  is  the  editor  and  owner 
of  a  newspaper  that  has  made  more  money  out  of  the 
Albany  lobby  during  the  past  fifteen  years  than  any 
other  or  all  editors  and  newspapers  put  together.  The 
Times  man  would  recognize  him  if  he  were  here, 
but  the  dignified  Times  has  no  place  in  such  a  crowd 
as  this.    Later,  when  champagne  has  done  its  work, 


Prostitution  in  New  York, 


127 


our  editor  and  his  friend,  will  throw  aside  their  masks 
and  kick  up  their  heels,  lightened  by  numerous  cock- 
tails, juleps,  or  Yerzenay  cobblers,  and  go  it  with 
a  looseness  that  will  command  instantaneous  and 
unqualified  admiration.  Their  wives  are  not  here, 
poor  dears,  but  the  gentlemen  have  a  night-key  and 
can  get  in  at  home  if  they  do  happen  to  be  a  little 
late. 

Yonder  is  a  millionaire,  but  a  devotee  of  pleasure  in 
all  guises.  lie  is  not  a  connoisseur,  so  to  speak,  in  his 
pleasures.  Of  low  birth,  and  lower  tastes,  he  has  none 
of  the  native  qualities  that  make  the  high-toned  man, 
and  in  the  mad  race  for  wealth  which  he  ran  in  Erie 
stocks,  he  picked  up  nothing  in  the  way  of  decent 
associations  that  remained  with  him  after  his  fortune 
was  assured.  At  midnight,  this  man  will  throw  off 
his  mask — he  need  never  have  donned  it,  for  conceal- 
ment in  his  case  is  unnecessary,  absurd  even — and 
will  join  the  obscene  revel  in  a  way  that  will  excite 
both  pity  and  disgust  in  any  decent  observer.  But 
he  is  a  true  prince  of  the  blood  to  which  he  belongs, 
and  comes  here  to  find  the  outlet  for  native  nastiness 
that  he  could  find  nowhere  else,  save  in  a  house  of 
vile  resort. 

The  huge  bundle  of  female  flesh  in  tights  and  flesh- 
ings, her  face  covered  with  paint  an  inch  thick,  but 
not  thick  enough  to  conceal  her  bloated  hideousness, 
is  the  keeper  of  an  up-town  "  bad  house,"  as  our 
country  friends  say.  She  will  be  his  partner  in  the 
dance,  and  when  it  is  over,  his  carriage  will  carry  him 
and  herself  to  the  elegant  quarters  which  his  own 
purse  provides  for  her. 

Seated  in  a  box  up-stairs  is  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
most  respectable  and  wealthy  merchants  of  this  city 


123  Prostitution  in  New  York. 

She  is  Iiere  in  the  company  of  the  man  whose  society 
and  whose  person  she  prefers  to  those  of  her  husband. 
The  liason  is  well  understood,  common  talk,  and  the 
husband  allows  her  to  go  where  she  chooses,  on  con- 
dition that  she  keep  to  her  own  room  when  at  home, 
and  leave  him  to  his  own  solitude  and  his  own  reflec- 
tions upon  a  hasty  and  ill-assorted  marriage. 

It  will  scarcely  be  believed,  but  yonder  is  the  wife 
of  one  of  New  York's  ablest  scholars.  Coming  to  this 
country  many  years  ago  a  widower  of  middle  age,  he 
married  a  giddy  southern  girl  of  twenty  years,  and 
from  that  day  to  this  has  been  a  banished  man  in  his 
own  household.  She  is  a  sensualist,  of  a  somewhat 
refined  type,  but  she  finds  ample  opportunity  for  that 
sort  of  companionship,  that  her  straight-laced,  but 
thoroughly  pure  minded  husband,  cannot,  and  will  not 
tolerate,  and  so  they  too  agree  to  disagree,  by  living 
separately,  so  far  as  married  rites  are  concerned,  in 
their  own  house.  He  remonstrated  and  scolded  for  is 
long  time,  but  finding  her  altogether  incorigible, 
and  desiring  that  the  world  should  not  know  that 
which  would  compromise  him  and  the  high  position 
he  occupies,  he  pockets  the  insult  to  his  own  home, 
and  betakes  himself  for  consolation  to  his  books,  his 
friends,  of  whom  he  has  a  host,  and  his  pipe. 

The  masks  are  now  thrown  aside,  and  the  boxes  are 
emptied  upon  the  floor  below.  All  restraint  is  re- 
moved, and  from  this  time  a  scene  will  be  enacted 
under  this  roof,  that  will  be  almost  incredible  to  the 
decent,  but  shocked  looker-on  that  sees  it  for  himself. 
Let  us  take  another  look,  not  for  purposes  of  exag- 
geration, or  to  gather  materials  for  a  chapter,  but  to 
see  what  this  thing  really  is.  Here  are  old  men, 
young  men  in  all  stages  of  adolescence,  boys  even, 


Prostitution  in  Xew  York. 


129 


and  women  of  every  age,  from  the  girl  in  her  first 
teens  to  the  middle-aged  wife  and  mother.  Men,  high 
in  business  and  social  circles,  accompanied  by  the 
women  they  keep.  Others  with  the  women  they  cohabit 
with  at  the  better  class  houses  of  prostitution.  There 
are  young  men  who  make  the  assignation  house  their 
place  of  sensuous  rendezvous,  and  the  sewing  girl,  or 
house  servant,  that  goes  with  him  there,  is  his  com- 
panion to  night. 

JSTow  all  these  people,  save  those  that  live  in  houses 
of  ill-fame,  pass  for  virtuous  women  in  the  circle  in 
which  they  move,  while  the  men,  well,  no  matter  what 
a  man  really  is,  he  generally  passes  master  in  his  own 
"  set"  as  a  high-toned  model  of  virtue  and  all  that  is 
manly  ;  at  all  events,  he  is  rarely  tabooed  socially,  no 
matter  what  may  be  his  habits,  provided  his  man- 
ners, his  dress,  and  his  pocket  are  unexceptionable,  so 
that  our  high-bred  mothers  and  daughters  have  no 
reason  to  find  fault,  when  they  themselves  countenance 
in  him,  what  is  really  disgusting  to  them,  rather  than 
lose  the  chance  of  marrying  him  to  one  of  their 
darling  daughters. 

Even  the  daughter  herself  has  no  scruples  about  it, 
and  rather  likes  the  lover  all  the  better  who  comes  to 
her  with  so  deep  a  knowledge  of  life  and  its  tortuous 
ways,  that  he  lays  upon  the  altar  of  her  virtue  a  body 
without  life  or  energy,  if  not  positively  diseased,  and 
a  heart  that  has  not  in  it  an  impulse  worthy  of  a  human 
heart — " played  out" — nothing  expresses  it  so  well,  in 
all  directions.  Marriage  comes  to  these  at  last,  and 
the  fruit  of  it,  if  such  it  can  be  called,  has  not  enough 
in  it  in  the  way  of  body  or  mind,  to  be  worth  pre- 
serving. 

And  this  is  the  way  we  go  on  in  this  great,  culti- 


130 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


vated,  benevolent  city.  Are  there  no  respectable 
women  in  this  crowd  ?  Yes,  a  few.  They  have  been 
can  "-lit  here  for  the  first  time,  or  have  been  induced  to 
come  under  a  mask,  just  ato  see  the  sights."  Of 
respectable  men,  they  who  pass  for  such,  there  are 
plenty.  You  can  find  them  everywhere  on  this  floor. 
Lawyers,  politicians,  merchants,  doctors,  all  profes- 
sions, even  the  clerical,  are  represented  here.  We 
know  a  clergyrrfan  of  this  city,  who  goes  frequently  to 
places  of  this  sort,  to  whet  up  his  vocabulary  for  the 
Sunday's  discourse.  Of  course  he  is  a  sensationalist, 
but  do  not  his  congregation  love  the  senses  and  all 
that  pertains  to  their  gratification  ? 

But  these  are  not  all.  Here  are  newspaper  report- 
ers, editors,  gamblers,  brothel  keepers,  prize  fighters, 
bruisers,  thieves,  knights  of  the  "jimmy,"  the  pistol 
and  the  bludgeon — all  huddled  together  into  one  ag- 
glomerated, filthy  mass. 

We  approach  the  end  of  this  unmasked  masquerade, 
for  I  have  tried  faithfully  to  unmask  it,  and  without 
the  slightest  exaggeration.  I  have  come  so  far  from 
this  indeed,  that  had  I  given  in  detail  the  scenes  that 
will  be  enacted  on  this  floor  between  midnight  and 
the  dawn,  when  the  sunlight  shall  creep  in  upon  faded 
faces  that  "  should  not  have  worn  this  aspect  for  many 
a  year,"  the  chapter  would  be  too  disgusting  to  read, 
and  if  read,  would  not  be  believed.  And  yet,  let  us 
not  forget  that  the  male  actors  in  it  are,  in  the  main, 
men  of  wealth  and  respectability. 

The  dance-house  is  an  ungilded  mass  of  physical  pu- 
trefaction ;  this  is  one  of  moral  death  ;  yet  even  here, 
the  winking  innuendo,  the  broad  jest,  the  lascivious 
stare,  have  given  place  to  ribaldry  obscene  retort, 
and  the  bestial  caress,  not  to  be  described  in  these 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


131 


pages.  Before  the  scene  closes,  fights,  knock-downs, 
the  knife,  and  perhaps  the  pistol,  will  be  in  free  use, 
and  diamonds,  paste,  elegant  costumes,  all  mingled  in 
one  dirty  mass. 

We  close  this  chapter  with  a  suggestion  or  two,  by 
way  of  answer  to  those  who  sneer  at  the  idea  of  bring- 
ing these  places  of  amusement  together  with  houses  of 
prostitution  under  such  a  system  of  regulation  and 
espionage  as  will  compel  them  to  be  outwardly  decent. 

The  Police  Department  has,  or  pretends  to  have,  in 
its  possession  the  number  of  every  house  of  prostitu- 
tion, the  name  of  its  keeper,  and  that  of  the  house 
owner,  together  with  a  diagram  of  each  house,  and 
the  names  of  the  inmates.  Suppose  this  register  were 
open  to  the  public,  as  it  now  is  not,  no  access  being 
allowed  to  it  except  on  the  part  of  a  chosen  few,  how 
many  of  these  places  owned  by  respectable,  many  of 
them  Christian  men,  would  change  hands  or  change 
their  character  in  twenty-four  hours  ? 

The  experiment  could  do  no  harm,  assuredly.  This 
is  not  all ;  the  regulation  system,  while  it  would  check, 
though  it  could  not  banish  the  evil,  would  compel 
cleanliness,  in  so  far  that  comparative  freedom  from 
disease  would  be  assured,  and  thus  the  evil  be  shorn 
of  its  most  disgusting  physical  features.  We  should 
certainly  stop  at  nothing  that  will  tend  to  check  the 
fearful  venerial  inoculation  that  goes  on  now  unchecked, 
and  at  such  a  rate  of  increase,  for  want  of  this  regula- 
tion, that  another  decade's  end  will  discover  this  taint 
in  the  blood  of  almost  every  family  in  the  land.  We 
do  not  say  that  society  shall  recognize  prostitution  as  a 
legitimate  or  indispensable  business,  or  that  the 
strumpet  shall  be  elevated  upon  a  pedestal,  to  be 
adored  bj  our  young  men,  but  we  do  say  that  society 


132 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


will,  in  the  end,  be  compelled,  in  self-defense,  to  recog- 
nize it  as  a  business,  and  to  subject  it,  moreover,  to 
such  regulations  as  will  make  it  less  revolting  to  the 
senses,  to  say  nothing  of  the  soul,  and  to  check  oy 
wholesome  supervision  the  frightful  diseases  engen- 
dered by  the  illicit  relations  of  the  sexes. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  FUTURE  OF  PROSTITUTION.  REGULATION  AND  OTHER 

THEORIES.  DR.    CHAPMAN    AND    THE  "WESTMINSTER 

REVIEW." 

My  chief  purpose  in  the  foregoing  chapters  has  been 
to  furnish  the  reader  with  a  faithful  and  accurate  pic- 
ture of  prostitution  as  it  exists  in  this  city  to-day ; 
sketches  thrown  off  at  intervals  as  I  have  been  called 
upon  to  visit  its  haunts,  presenting  such  only  as  could 
with  propriety  be  transferred  to  the  pages  of  a  volume 
like  this.  Proposing  no  special  theories  of  my  own 
for  consideration  or  adoption,  I  have  been  content  to 
suggest,  in  a  general  way,  as  I  have  gone  along,  such 
possible  remedies  as  seemed  suited  to  the  desperate 
case  with  which  society  has  to  deal.  Everywhere,  and 
for  all  time,  a  stumbling  block  in  our  civilization,  with 
exceptional  cases,  like  those  of  France,  but  little  atten- 
tion has  been  paid  to  it.  We  in  this  country  have 
been  satisfied  to  stand  appalled  before  this  social  curse 
and  bewail  its  ravages.  That  time  is  past.  The  day 
of  whining  about  it,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  is  passing,  while 
that  of  action  has  arrived.  However  much  we  may 
still  desire  to  put  away  from  us  all  thought  or  care  of 
a  social  ulcer  so  offensive  to  delicacy,  the  ugly  fact 
stares  us  in  the  face,  that  the  disease  is  no  longer  con- 
fined to  the  lowest  creatures  that  inhabit  the  slums. 
It  is  everywhere,  and  its  spread  is  due  largely  to  the 
fact  that  society  looks  upon  the  adulterer  with  com- 
placence.   Even  the  presence  of  disease,  the  result  of 


131 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


loose  habits,  is  not  deemed  sufficient  to  make  a  man 
shunned,  and  if  such  a  one  be  possessed  of  wealth, 
position,  or  has  a  good  family-name  and  associations 
behind  him,  some  ambitious  mother  will  be  found  to 
intrust  him  with  the  happiness  (misery  usually)  of  her 
daughter. 

The  men  that  pass  current  in  what  are  known  and 
recognized  as  the  highest  social  circles,  are  not  only 
often  found  to  be  the  apologists  of  lewdness,  but  are 
themselves  men  of  easy  virtue.  Does  society  frown 
upon  these  culprits  ?  When  judges  on  the  bench,  and 
clergymen  even,  break  the  commandment  against 
adultery,  does  society  punish  them  with  its  ban  ?  In 
the  case  of  the  latter,  society  shakes  its  head,  pouts  a 
little  at  such  naughtiness  in  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel, 
but  follows  these  with  its  entire  forgiveness.  As  to 
the  others,  all  go  unpunished,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest  in  the  social  scale. 

Happily  for  the  rising  generation,  the  present  period 
happens  to  be  one  in  which  the  indications  of  a  better 
day  to  come  in  our  home  and  social  life  are  plainly 
visible.  Under  the  lead  of  social  economists  like  Mill, 
Herbert  Spencer,  and  others  of  the  same  school,  we 
have  come  to  look  upon  the  social  evil  as  not  only  one 
that  can  be  modified  and  regulated,  but  one  that 
society  is  bound  to  check  by  wholesome  legislation  in 
the  first  place,  and  also  by,  what  will  doubtless  prove 
equally  powerful  to  check  it,  social  ostracism. 

Society  suffers  no  compunction  when  it  punishes  its 
thieves,  its  burglars,  its  gamblers,  its  murderers,  or 
even  its  drunkards,  but  with  marked  inconsistency, 
smiles  upon  the  man  who  carries  upon  his  person 
habitually,  the  marks  of  venereal  poison,  and  what  is 
worse,  suffers  him  to  taint,  without  fear  of  penal  laws 


Prostitution  in  New  York, 


135 


or  social  excommunication,  the  body  of  Lis  own  wife 
and  the  blood  of  the  children  that  she  bears  him. 

But  as  I  have  hinted,  we  seem  to  have  reached  the 
period  when  we  can  discuss,  in  a  thoughtful  and  intel- 
ligent way,  aided  by  much  in  the  way  of  useful  data, 
prostitution  in  all  its  bearings,  and  in  a  spirit  so  broad 
and  catholic,  that  substantial  good  must  come  as  a 
result ;  at  all  events,  it  is  to  be  hailed  as  a  sign  of 
coming  soundness,  when  we  show  a  willingness  to  go 
to  work  to  solve  for  ourselves,  and  in  our  own  way,  a 
problem  that,  up  to  this  time,  we  have  with  cowardice 
more  than  reprehensible,  refused  to  recognize  as  a 
problem  at  all. 

It  is  something  gained,  therefore,  when  we  can  be- 
gin to  talk  familiarly,  and  in  a  purely  common-sense, 
practical  way,  of  this  abomination,  as  it  looks  up  to  us 
from  its  dirty  retreat  in  the  slums,  as  well  as  down 
upon  us  from  its  gilded  palaces  on  Fifth  Avenue. 

That  the  case  is  a  peculiar  one,  environed  and 
hedged  in  on  all  sides  by  other  collateral  questions,  all 
perplexing  in  the  extreme,  and  equally  difficult  of  so- 
lution, is  fully  admitted,  but  this  fact  itself  will  prove 
a  spur  to  exertion,  and  lead  to  the  final  work  of  per- 
forming a  very  plain  duty. 

Thus  fiir,  little  or  nothing  has  been  accomplished 
beyond  airing  our  theories,  and  discussing  methods  in 
a  vague,  far-off  way,  at  arm's  length,  so  to  speak. 
What  is  needed  now  is  not  a  further  discussion  of 
mere  social  ideologies,  but  a  stern,  earnest,  applica- 
tion of  practical  methods  to  control  the  evil,  and  keep 
it  well  in  hand  in  the  future. 

If  we  appeal  to  the  monogamist  for  a  solution  of 
the  problem,  he  will  tell  us,  pointing  to  Brighaiu 
Young  and  his  harem,  that  polygamy  is  but  another 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


name  for  prostitution,  and  inseparable  from  it.  The 
polygamist,  surrounded  by  his  wives,  points  to  them 
with  pride,  and  tells  us  coolly  that  these  have  been 
plucked  from  the  fire  of  prostitution  to  which  the  one- 
w  ife  system  would  have  consigned  them,  and  that  the 
exclusiveness  alone  of  the  latter  system  has  in  England 
and  this  country  driven  one  woman  in  sixty  to  ignore 
all  marriage  laws  for  open  prostitution,  assignation,  or 
the  relation  of  mistress,  and  then  clinches  his  argu- 
ment with  the  assertion  that  polygamy  is  practiced  or 
tolerated  by  three-fourths  of  the  race. 

Marriage,  says  the  Eoman  Catholic,  fresh  from  the 
confessional,  must  be  sanctioned  by  the  Church,  must 
be  sacramental,  and  that  any  other  is  an  adulterous 
one.  The  Protestant,  backed  up  by  Luther,  who  mar- 
ried a  nun,  and  later  by  Pere  Hyacinthe,  who  recently 
renounced  his  monastic  vows,  in  order  that  he  might 
marry  an  American  woman  whose  character  and  sweet 
face  had  captured  his  religion  as  well  as  his  heart,  af- 
firms that  marriage  is  a  purely  human  and  civil  insti- 
tution, requiring  only  the  consent  of  the  parties  to 
legalize  it,  and  to  confer  legitimacy  upon  the  fruit  of 
it.  Brigham  Young  and  the  Mormon  Elders,  supported 
by  the  whole  Mormon  establishment,  set  up  under  their 
own  hand  and  seal,  in  a  territ6ry  under  the  exclusive 
control  of  Congress,  a  system  that  makes  every  Mor- 
mon woman  in  Utah  a  prostitute,  and  were  it  not  for 
a  growl  now  and  then  uttered  upon  the  floor  of  Con- 
gress against  the  "  Utah  curse,"  Brigham's  circle  of 
prostitution  would  be  as  safe  from  attack  from  any 
quarter  as  are  the  marriage  laws  of  New  York. 

One  pious  theorist  tells  us,  writh  tears  streaming 
from  his  honest  eyes,  that  the  American  idea  of  mar- 
riage, making  it  a  purely  civil  contract  between  two 


Prostitution  in  New  YorTc. 


137 


persons  will  in  the  end  lead  logically  and  inevitably  to 
a  form  of  marriage  that  may  be  dissolved  at  any  time 
by  the  parties  that  make  it,  and  it  is  but  just  to  say 
that  his  logic  is  irresistible. 

Coming  down  to  prostitution  as  an  institution,  we 
find  ourselves  equally  at  sea  as  to  theories.  One 
school  of  moralists  insists  that  the  idea  of  sinfulness, 
or  of  disgrace,  should  be  eliminated  in  our  treat- 
ment, not  only  of  the  prostitute  herself,  but  the  men 
who  make  prostitution  possible,  that  it  should  be 
treated  as  any  other  social  disease,  and  that  those 
whose  bodies  have  been  poisoned  by  indiscriminate 
cohabitation,  should  be  admitted  to  our  hospitals  upon 
equal  terms.  Another  set,  which  comprises  the  thor- 
oughly practical  or  scientific  school,  insists  that  pros- 
titution should  be  recognized  as  a  legitimate  and  ne- 
cessary  business  or  trade,  and  should  forthwith  be 
placed  under  government  espionage  and  control ; 
while  still  another,  the  most  inconsistent  and  narrow 
of  all,  avpws  its  belief  that  prostitution  in  every  great 
city  like  our  own,  should  be  confined  by  law  to  a  par- 
ticular quarter,  walled  in,  and  allowed  to  rot  itself 
away  in  its  own  filth.  It  would  be  pertinent  to  in- 
quire who  in  such,  a  case  should  be  allowed  to  keep 
the  keys  that  would  unlock  the  entrances  to  this  "  lep- 
ers' quarter." 

Meantime  the  emeute  among  the  free-lovers  and 
women's  rights  advocates  generally  continues,  the  lat- 
ter clamoring  for  the  right  of  indiscriminate  sexual 
association,  and  the  whole  brood  insisting  that  chastity 
will  be  assured  in  the  absolute  equality  that  is  to  come 
from  the  future  assimilation  of  the  sexes,  when  woman 
shall  no  longer  continue  the  slave  of  the  "  tyrant " 
man,  and  that  with  the  advent  of  this  period,  prosti- 


133 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


tution  will  gather  up  its  rags  and  its  filth  and  betake 
itself  to  some  less  highly  civilized  locality,  that  ob- 
scene corner  of  the  earth,  we  suppose,  into  which 
stubborn  transgressors  are  to  be  stowed  away  by  them- 
selves, to  be  worked  over  for  the  millennium.  Con- 
servative orthodoxy,  fully  impressed  with  the  charms 
that  have  hitherto  drawn  man  toward  woman,  and 
which  has  made  him  her  captive  and  slave,  takes  the 
alarm,  and  issues  its  anathemas  against  the  free-lovers 
with  an  unction  worthy  of  so  holy  a  cause. 

Shakerism,  fully  convinced  that  the  propagation  of 
the  human  race  has  gone  on  about  long  enough,  and 
far  exceeded  every  reasonable  limit  as  to  numbers,  and 
that  lewdness  is  one  of  the  outgrowths  of  this  excess, 
presents  to  the  world  the  most  extraordinary  exhibi- 
tion of  continency,  celibacy,  and  a  pure,  social  state, 
than  has  ever  before  been  witnessed.  Through  the  ex- 
ercise of  a  self-subjugation,  superhuman  in  its  power, 
to  those  who  do  not  practice  it,  the  sexes  come  toge- 
ther under  the  same  roof,  sit  at  the  same  table,  mingle, 
in  short,  in  every  social  way,  save  that  allowed  by  mar- 
riage, abstaining  absolutely  from  all  passionate  gratifi- 
cation, and  living  lives  as  sweet,  simple  and  pure  as 
can  be  imagined,  and  coining  nearer  in  their  living  to 
the  realization  of  a  perfect  social  state  than  any  of  the 
social  ideologists. 

The  vague  dreamer,  and  we  have  not  grown  so  prac- 
tical that  he  has  become  a  myth,  is  still  among  us. 
His  body  on  earth  and  his  brain  in  the  moon,  he  still 
lisps  to  us  of  that  Utopia  to  come  that  is  to  surpass  in 
the  perfection  of  its  beauty  that  of  Sir  Thomas  Moore, 
that  beautiful  island  teeming  with  flowers  that  never 
faded  and  fruits  that  knew  no  decay,  its  peaceful 
people  shut  out  from  all  contagions,  physical  or  social, 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


139 


— all  this,  if  we  will  only  behave  ourselves,  and  live 
lives  without  passion,  shall  yet,  he  assures  us,  be  ours. 

Laugh  as  we  may  at  these  over-sensitive  people  and 
their  devotions,  there  is  an  element  of  the  moral  sub- 
lime in  the  life  and  tenets  of  a  sect  that  have  for  their 
object  the  complete  subjection  in  man  of  the  lower  to 
the  higher.  It  is  comforting,  looking  out  from  this 
mass  of  contradictions  in  the  way  of  opinions,  this 
chaos  of  living,  in  which  the  nineteenth  century  is 
so  prolific,  to  find  any  considerable  number  of  people 
standing  high  above  the  crowd,  picturing  to  them- 
selves a  social  state  in  which  crime  and  passion  shall 
be  unknown,  where,  amidst  a  spontaneity  that  shall 
render  toil  unnecessary,  man  shall  yet  dwell  in  sublime 
simplicity  and  innocence.  An  account  of  these  dreams, 
these  social  ideologies  from  Zoroaster  down  to  Ann 
Lee,  would  fill  volumes.  Some  of  these  declare  that 
when  man  fell  from  his  high  estate,  nature  was  in 
perpetual  bloom,  and  that  at  his  fall  barrenness  and 
decay  came  in  its  place. 

The  world  has  run  the  gauntlet  of  these  ideologies 
from  the  New  Atlantis  of  Bacon  to  the  Shakers  of 
New  Lebanon,  and  the  Oneida  community,  and  has 
stamped  them  as  they  came  as  too  one-sided  for  prac- 
tical adoption.  We  have  discovered,  after  much  trib- 
ulation through  untold  centuries,  that  man  is  a  fear- 
fully complex  animal,  capable  of  the  highest  and 
grandest  achievements,  and  of  the  deepest  degrada- 
tion, a  being  with  powers  that  render  him  God-like, 
and  passions  that  sink  him  to  a  level  below  the 
brute,  and  that  to  improve  him,  and  fit  him  for  the 
place  God  intended  he  should  occupy  in  the  universe, 
a  good  deal  of  common  sense,  and  still  more  of  nerve, 
is  needed  in  the  trainer. 


140 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


So  much  for  history,  and  the  social  theories  it  re- 
cords, nearly  all  of  which  have  fought  the  battle  of 
the  passions,  love,  marriage,  and  the  sexes,  and  in 
which  prostitution  has  entered  as  an  element,  and  with 
what  success  ?  Just  this,  that  the  evil  to-day  is  more 
prevalent  than  it  has  ever  been,  that  it  is  increasing 
with  fearful  rapidity,  that  it  stands  at  this  moment 
among  the  chief  perils  of  modern  civilization,  and  that 
society  is  in  almost  blissful  ignorance,  for  the  want  of 
reliable  data,  of  the  amount  of  disease  propagated  by 
this  hideous  evil. 

All  this  we  know,  and  it  will  not  do  to  fold  our 
hands  in  face  of  the  facts,  and  go  to  sleep  and  dream 
of  some  island  to  which  the  human  race  will  some 
time  be  removed,  purged  of  all  its  diseases  and  ills. 
It  is  folly  to  say  that  society  shall  do  this  or  that,  with 
the  expectation  that  the  command  will  be  obeyed. 
Society  happens  to  be  so  constituted  that,  like  the  in- 
dividuals that  comprise  it,  it  has  a  bad  habit  of  putt- 
ing off  what  ought  to  be  done  until  the  particular 
case  with  which  it  has  to  deal  becomes  so  desperate, 
that  to  put  it  off  longer  would  be  suicide  or  surren- 
der. 

If  it  is  expected  that  society  is  going  to  transfer  the 
strumpet  to  our  parlors  and  our  homes,  and  compel  a 
recognition  of  her  as  if  she  were  virtuous,  under  the 
name  of  free-love,  society  will  do  no  such  stupid  thing. 
What  will  society  do  then,  and  how  will  it  do  it, 
seem  to  be  pertinent  questions  just  now.  France  has 
solved  the  problem  of  prostitution  in  part,  from  her 
own  stand-point,  and  by  methods  suited  to  the  charac- 
ter of  her  government  and  her  people.  England  is 
making  a  laudable  effort  in  the  same  direction,  and  in 
accordance  with  her  own  social  peculiarities.   A  series 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


141 


of  articles  on  prostitution  in  the  Westminster  Review, 
written  by  Dr.  Chapman,  sums  up  the  case  from  the 
English  standpoint,  and  from  that  of  published  sta- 
tistics as  well,  reviewing  also  the  continental  system. 
Dr.  Chapman's  results  may  be  briefly  summed  up  as 
follows : — 

First — The  personnel  of  prostitutes  is  replaced  every 
seven  years. 

Second — These  women  do  not,  as  a  rule,  die  of  their 
riotous  living,  but  are  absorbed  back  into  the  com- 
munity. 

Third — The  amount  of  disease  engendered  by  the 
illicit  relation  of  the  sexes  is  appalling.  This  is  one 
of  the  most  serious  perils  of  modern  civilization. 
"While  the  danger  to  the  women  themselves  in  the 
matter  of  longevity,  has  been  absurdly  overrated,  the 
damage  done  to  the  health  of  the  community  by  the 
prevalence  of  prostitution  has  scarcely  been  sus- 
pected. 

Fourth — The  attempt  on  the  part  of  government  to 
suppress  and  limit  prostitution  by  any  expedient  what- 
ever, has  resulted  in  disappointment  and  disaster.  At- 
tempts to  regulate  it  have  met  with  the  same  fate. 

The  French  system,  despite  the  encomiums  cast 
upon  it,  instead  of  checking,  has  had  the  effect  to  in- 
crease the  spread  of  immorality,  while  as  a  check  to 
the  spread  of  disease,  it  has  had  less  than  no  effect  at 
all. 

So  much  for  Dr.  Chapman  and  his  theory  deduced 
from  the  English  standpoint.  The  results  arrived  at 
by  the  Doctor,  for  the  most  part,  are  contradicted  by 
well  established  data  gathered  from  other  fields  of  in- 
formation. However  true  it  may  be  in  England,  that 
prostitutes,  as  a  rule,  are  absorbed  back  into  the  com 


142 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


munity,  it  is  not  true  of  the  same  class  in  this  coun- 
try. Our  own  statistics  on  this  point  are  not  abund- 
ant, but  sufficiently  so  to  show  beyond  a  doubt  that 
the  number  of  those  who  find  their  way  back  into 
society  is  so  small  as  to  form  the  exception  and  not 
the  rule.  It  is  a  well  ascertained  fact,  here  in  this 
city,  that  where  the  life  is  once  fully  entered  upon, 
all  desire  even,  to  return  to  a  life  of  virtue  ceases. 
It  may  be  that  the  sturdy  brute-force  developed  by 
beef  and  beer  in  the  English  prostitute,  enables  her 
to  absorb  venereal  and  all  other  poisons  engendered 
by  filthy  living,  and  still  leave  her  in  a  condition  to 
be  "  absorbed  back  into  the  community,"  without  en- 
dangering its  health.  With  us  her  career  as  a  pros- 
titute ended,  there  is  so  little  life  or  vitality  left  in 
her,  that  her  absorption  in  any  direction  is  a  matter 
of  the  smallest  possible  consequence,  for  at  best  she 
is  but  a  wreck,  her  death,  as  a  certain  result  of  her 
sin,  being  but  a  question  of  time. 

The  ability  of  the  English  physical  constitution  to 
resist  the  ravages  of  disease  is  seen  in  the  seven  years' 
replacement  theory  of  Dr.  Chapman.  With  us  four 
years  comes  nearer  the  average,  but  then  we  live  a 
good  deal  faster,  as  a  general  thing,  than  our  English 
cousins,  and  those  among  us  who  live  lives  of  shame 
form  no  exception  to  the  general  rule. 

Dr.  Chapman's  statement  that,  appalling  as  it  is, 
the  amount  of  disease  engendered  by  the  illicit  rela- 
tion of  the  sexes  is  scarcely  suspected,  is  forcibly 
made,  and  true  to  the  letter.  The  disease  being  a  pri- 
vate one,  and  treated  in  the  most  private  way,  re- 
mains a  secret  between  the  physician  and  patient,  but 
if  the  number  of  patients  that  any  city  physician 
treats  for  venereal  disease  could  be  exactly  ascertained, 


4 


Prostitution  in  New  Yorh.  143 

during  any  given  year,  the  fact  would  be  anything 
but  a  pleasant  one.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  whole 
number  treated  in  this  city  annually  for  venereal  dis- 
ease, and  the  ills  that  flow  directly  from  the  poison, 
would  exceed  twenty-five  thousand. 

If  this  fact  alone  is  not  sufficient  to  rouse  public 
attention  to  the  importance  of  checking  this  frightful 
exhibit,  by  some  well  digested  attempt  to  regulate  the 
evil,  it  would  seem  that  with  us,  at  least,  this  blight 
has  become  chronic,  and  hence  incurable,  and  so  the 
sooner  we  establish  the  "  lepers'  quarter  "  the  better ; 
at  all  events,  a  community  that  is  confessedly  so  low 
in  the  scale  of  civilization  that  it  refuses  to  resist,  by 
all  the  means  in  its  power,  the  damage  constantly  done 
to  itself  by  the  prevalence  of  prostitution,  deserves  to 
suffer  the  consequences  as  they  come. 

Dr.  Chapman's  assertion  that  all  attempts  to  regu- 
late and  limit  prostitution  by  any  expedient  whatever, 
has  resulted  in  disaster,  if  correct,  calls  for  the 
most  serious  consideration.  First,  as  to  its  accuracy, 
and  per  contra. 

In  France,  where  the  regulation  system  has  under- 
gone the  most  thorough  tests  that  have  been  made, 
the  published  results  contradict  in  toto  the  statement 
he  publishes.  A  recent  report  from  the  bureau  that 
has  charge  of  the  bagnios  of  Paris,  gives  the  most 
favorable  results  in  favor  of  the  regulation  system. 
The  facts  gathered  from  carefully  prepared  tabular 
statements,  show  that  not  only  has  the  amount  of 
prostitution  diminished,  but  that  the  results  in  the  way 
of  checking  the  spread  of  the  disease  have  been  most 
gratifying.  Pierson's  reports  from  the  same  bureau 
confirm  the  last  published  statement,  and  as  there  is 
no  valid  reason  to  suppose  that  these  have  not  beeu 


144  Prostitution  in  J\rcw  Yo?*k. 

made  in  good  faith,  and  without  any  desire  to  make  a 
case  in  favor  of  the  displacement  theory,  the  reports  must 
6tand  as  the  very  latest  reliable  information  on  the 
subject,  Dr.  Chapman  to  the  contrary  notwithstand- 
ing. 

It  would  be  strange  indeed  if  Dr.  Chapman,  or  any 
other  Englishman,  writing  upon  the  results  of  a  French 
experiment  in  any  department  of  government,  could 
review,  with  anything  like  justice,  such  experiment. 
It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  English  mind  to  go  counter 
to  any  theory  advanced  by  a  Frenchman,  and  in  this 
case  the  national  prejudice  has  led  a  man  of  ability  to 
contradict  tabular  statements  with  a  general  denial 
unsupported  by  a  single  tact.  So  far  as  the  French 
case  stands,  Dr.  Chapman  is  out  of  court. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  let  us  admit  the  Doctor's 
statement  to  be  true,  then  it  follows  that  society  has 
at  least  one  ill  for  wThich  no  remedy  has  as  yet  been 
found  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  no  attempt  has 
been  made,  save  in  a  single  instance,  to  check  the  evil 
of  prostitution  by  regulation  or  any  other  means,  a 
fact  that  does  not  speak  well  for  American  humanity. 
Even  here  in  this  city,  where  an  opportunity  is  offered 
for  such  an  experiment  as  was  never  witnessed  before, 
absolutely  nothing  has  been  done  in  this  regard. — 
While  charities,  operated  by  our  best  men  and  wo- 
men, and  which  have  lavished  upon  them — squandered 
upon  them — untold  sums  yearly,  multiply  at  a  rate 
explainable  only  upon  the  theory  that  a  spirit  of  rival- 
ry has  been  substituted  for  that  of  charity,  absolutely 
nothing  has  been  done  to  check  an  evil  that  has  be- 
come so  offensive  that  it  poisons  the  very  air  we 
breathe. 

Our  destitute  orphans,  foundlings,  paupers,  together 


lJro  titation  in  New  York.  145 . 


with  certain  millionaire  criminals,  are  cared  for  with 
a  public  tenderness  that  would  be  touching  in  its  hu- 
manity, were  it  not  that  facts  sometimes  leak  out  in 
connection  with  some  of  these  noted  charities  that  lead 
incredulous  people  to  doubt  if  there  exists,  after  all, 
such  an  element  in  the  community  as  charity.  Her 
ever  outstretched  hand  in  this  city,  feels  its  way  into 
every  dark  corner  save  one,  with  a  zeal  marvelous  to 
witness.  Of  the  ten  thousand  illegitimate  waifs  born 
on  the  island  every  year,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  there  are 
ten  thousand  dear,  good,  pious  women,  each  ready  to 
catch  up  one  of  these  children  of  shame,'  and  bear  it 
away  in  triumph  to  some  sweet,  luxurious  retreat,  pro- 
vided by  charity  for  its  reception,  where  it  may  be 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  pampered  with  delica- 
cies, and  nurtured  and  educated  at  charity's  expense. 

Ask  one  of  those  charitable  ones  to  go  with  you  to 
the  slums  where  such  a  thing  as  virtue  or  innocence 
is  unknown*,  where  reeking  basements  distil  odors  that 
savor  of  concentrated  poison  ;  where  haggard,  with- 
ered, hideous  faces  meet  you  at  every  step,  each  plead- 
ing with  mute,  but  irresistible  eloquence  for  help, 
and  the  lady  thus  appealed  to  will  lift  her  head  high 
in  air,  place  her  vinaigrette  close  to  both  nostrils,  and 
whisper  in  your  ear — "never!" 

The  woman  that  sells  her  virtue  should  be  an  out- 
cast forever.  "  Away  With  her,  she  is  unclean."  It 
1  is  believed  by  those  who  have  seen  this  evil  face  to 
face,  and  who  know  well  the  claims  these  creatures 
have  upon  our  sympathy  and  pity,  that  a  tithe  only 
of  the  huge  sums  wasted  annually  in  the  name  of 
charity,  wTould,  if  bestowed  in  this  direction,  be  pro- 
ductive of  an  amount  of  good  incalculable. 

Finally,  the  main  question  with  which  the  public 


.116 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


has  to  deal  is,  shall  this  rapidly  growing  evil  be  regu- 
lated by  the  state?  It  must  be  admitted  in  this  con- 
nection, that  there  are  a  large  number  of  well-meaning, 
but  unthinking  people  in  almost  every  community, 
who  honestly  believe  that  the  better  way  is  to  allow 
evils  like  drunkenness  and  prostitution  to  die  out  of 
themselves,  to  work  their  own  cure.  No  graver  mis- 
take conld  be  made  than  to  settle  down  upon  such  a 
policy.  The  difficulty  is,  that  neither  will  die  out  so 
long  as  human  passions  and  appetites  exist.  "Were  the 
same  rule  to  be  carried  out  as  a  general  principle  to  be 
applied  to  the  power  of  the  state  to  regulate  any  evil 
whatever  resulting  from  the  passions,  cupidity,  or  ra- 
pacity of  the  individual,  or  any  number  of  individuals, 
society  would  speedily  be  left  without  any  protection 
whatever.  If  government  means  anything,  it  implies 
the  power  which  the  people  themselves  confer  upon 
it,  to  regulate  every  public  evil  the  control  of  which 
is  demanded  by  the  public  weal.  Hence,  drunken- 
ness, prostitution,  adulteration  of  food,  crimes  of  every 
grade,  in  short,  against  the  individual  or  the  state,  be- 
come proper  subjects  of  regulation  by  the  state,  and 
this  is  all  there  is  of  it  so  far  as  the  argument  is  con- 
cerned. To  permit  an  evil  like  that  of  prostitution  to 
flourish  in  our  midst  unchecked,  under  the  supposition 
that  the  state  has  no  business  to  meddle  with  such 
questions  as  that  of  its  right  or  power  to  regulate  it 
is  not  alone  absurd,  it  is  in  itself  a  crime,  and  would 
be  so  considered  if  the  state  could  be  reached  as  can 
the  individual. 

The  fact  that  such  an  opinion  prevails,  is  another 
melancholy  proof  of  the  growing  contempt  for  law 
that  is  rife  among  us,  an  evil  in  itself,  the  cause  of 
which  may  be  fairly  shared  between  the  people  them- 


Prostitution  in  JVevi  York. 


U7 


selves  and  the  corrupt  men  they  permit  to  legislate 
for  and  govern  them. 

In  Europe  they  manage  these  matters  better.  We 
shall  so  manage  them  when  we  are  driven  to  it  by 
the  same  influence  that  impels  it,  and  have  a  more 
closely  packed  population.  As  we  grow  older  and 
more  sensible,  the  truth  will  at  last  begin  to  dawn 
upon  us  that  government  is,  or  should  be,  a  machine 
whose  chief  and  sole  business  it  is  to  be  as  nearly  per- 
fect a  machine  as  human  necessity  added  to  human 
intelligence  can  make  it,  a  machine  to  regulate  the 
temporal  affairs  of  those  under  it  down  to  the  minut- 
est detail  demanding  fur  the  public  good  legislative 
interference  or  control.  What,  says  the  stickler  for 
"  God  in  the  Constitution,"  are  morals  to  have  no  place 
in  our  system  of  government  ?  By  all  means,  and 
their  appropriate  place  in  the  hearts  of  the  people 
who  impart  their  tone  to  the  government  they  make. 
An  increase  of  individual  morality  will  give  us  a 
healthy  public  morality,  and  these  reacting  on  each 
other  will  give  us  in  the  end  a  government  of  the  same 
character. 

Despite  the  loose,  insincere  gabble  about  reform,  of 
which  we  hear  so  much,  and  witness  so  little,  the  age 
is  an  intensely  self-seeking  and  sorded  one.  Even  the 
benevolence  and  philanthropy  of  which  we  boast,  is 
found,  on  inspection,  much  of  it  to  be  but  skin  deep. 
It  bellows  itself  hoarse  on  the  platform  when  the  dem- 
agogue begs  for  office,  but  you  hear  nothing  of  it  after 
the  official  boon  he  begs  is  granted.  Show  me  a 
people  possessing  a  nice  sense  of  individual  honor, 
and  that  quality  will  find  its  way  into  the  legislative 
hall.  Morality,  and  a  high  sense  of  public  duty, 
must  be  looked  for  first  in  the  community,  and  then 


us 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


in  the  men  who  represent  it.  The  machine  that  exe 
cutes  the  people's  will  will  be  perfect  in  proportion  a? 
this  quality  is  found  in  those  who  construct  it. 

AVhen  a  man  thinks  only  of  saving  his  own  soul,  he 
thinks  or  cares  very  little  about  the  salvation  of  others. 
It  is  precisely  thus  with  the  public,  as  it  stands  related 
to  the  government.  If  its  tone  is  low  and  weak,  the 
men  it  elects  to  office  will  be  corrupt  and  dishonest. 
A  moral  influence  cannot  be  exerted  by  a  people  so 
destitute  of  moral  sensibility  that  they  go  on  year  after 
year  in  electing  to  the  highest  places  in  the  gift  of  the 
people  the  slimiest  demagogues  that  can  be  found, 
until  it  has  come  to  pass  with  us  in  this  city,  and 
throughout  the  country  as  well,  that  the  government 
desired  by  really  good  men,  is  a  consummation  des- 
paired of. 

How  can  crime  be  arrested,  and  its  evil  effects  coun- 
teracted, by  law  makers  who  are  themselves  criminals 
of  the  worst  sort  ?  Of  what  use  are  a  police,  boards 
of  health,  charities,  courts  of  justice,  any  government 
at  all,  in  short,  if  it  is  to  be  administered  by  scound- 
rels colluding  with  scoundrels  to  destroy  its  influence 
for  good,  and  who  coddle  the  villain  they  are  set  to 
watch  ? 

Give  us  a  good  firm  toning  up  of  the  sense  of  pub- 
lic justice  among  the  people,  and  civil  service,  muni- 
cipal and  all  other  reforms,  so  much  needed  just  at 
this  time,  will  be  forthcoming.  When  that  day  ar- 
rives, it  will  not  be  difficult  to  regulate  the  evil  of 
prostitution,  or  any  other  public  or  social  evil,  to  an 
extent  that  is  now  utterly  impossible.  The  results  can 
never  come  so  long  as  the  present  declension  in  public 
virtue  continues.  The  age  demands,  not  a  new  moral- 
ity, but  a  morality  that  shall  comprehend  a  full  appre- 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  149 

elation  of  human  duty  and  responsibility,  as  these 
stand  related  to  government  and  the  men  who  preside 
over  it,  and  when  our  people  can  so  far  forget  their 
theories,  their  hypocritical  babbling  about  reform, 
their  overweening  self-estimation,  their  mad  haste  to 
get  rich,  and  can  get  down  to  the  business  of  looking 
after  the  public  as  well  as  individual  needs,  we  shall 
cease  trying  to  buy  an  easy  way  to  heaven  with  the 
money  filched  from  the  public  purse,  or  from  over- 
reaching in  any  direction. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


PRIVATE  LYING-IN  HOSPITALS. 

On  any  morning  of  the  week  the  readers  of  the  N. 
Y.  Herald  will  find  among  its  numerous  advertise- 
ments something  like  the  following  : — 

"Board. — Ladies  expecting  to  be  confined,  can  procure  plea- 
sant rooms,  with  careful  attention,  at  No.  220  W.  27th  Street. 

The  above  advertisement,  furnishes  the  key  that  un- 
locks the  secrets  of  three  of  the  most  diabolical  trades 
that  flourish  in  this  city,  to  wit :  Private  lying-in  hos- 
pitals, abortion  hospitals,  and  that  most  recent  outrage 
upon  our  civilization,  the  den  of  the  "  baby-farmer." 
The  first  we  shall  make  the  subject  of  this  chapter, 
the  next  will  give  an  account  of  "baby-farming,"  as 
witnessed  by  ourselves. 

Of  the  too  well  known  trade  of  the  abortionist,  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  speak  in  a  general  way  as  we 
proceed.  The  Restells  and  Rosenzweigs,  et  id  omne 
genus,  have  been  allowed  carte  blanche  for  all  time  in 
their  business  of  infant  slaughter.  The  disgusting, 
horrible  details,  even,  have  not  yet  proved  sufficiently 
sickening  to  nauseate  the  public  stomach,  and  so  each 
of  the  numerous  physicians  in  this  city,  whose  sole 
business  it  is  to  murder  not  alone  children,  but  the 
miserable  mothers  who  refuse  to  bear  them  in  the 
natural  way,  ply  their  trade  without  molestation. 
When  a  crime  like  that  of  the  Nathan  murder  is  com- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


151 


mitted,  not  a  man  is  sent  on  the  track  of  the  murderer 
who  does  not  strain  every  nerve  within  him  to  discover 
if  possible  and  arrest  the  perpetrator,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  continuing  the  search  for  years,  when  the  re- 
ward for  his  arrest  happens  to  be  a  generous  one.  This 
is  just  as  it  should  be,  as  far  as  it  goes,  for  nothing  is 
more  commendable  in  a  public  officer  than  zeal  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties ;  but  why,  in  the  face  of  this 
most  gratifying  exhibition  of  promptness  and  energy, 
are  the  murderers  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  chil- 
dren annually  in  this  city  allowed  to  go  unpunished, 
without  not  the  slightest  effort  being  made  to  arrest  a 
single  one  of  them  even  ?  The  question  is  certainly  a 
pertinent  one,  and  we  venture  meekly  to  call  upon  the 
Police,  the  Board  of  Health,  and  the  State  commission- 
ers of  charities,  to  give  the  public  an  intelligent  an- 
swer. 

But  our  present  business  is  not  with  the  Eestells, 
or  the  unholy  brood  of  which  she  is  the  mother,  but 
with  that  class  of  unfortunate  women  who  escape  her 
clutches,  but  who  bring  up  at  last  in  the  private  lying- 
in  hospital.  Of  these  in  this  city  there  are  about 
thirty  in  successful  operation.  Their  business  is  to 
attend,  during  confinement,  young  women  who  get 
into  trouble,  and  who,  as  we  have  hinted,  manage  to 
get  through  without  the  help  of  the  abortionist.  These 
unfortunates,  many  of  them  mere  children,  who  have 
been  ruined  by  some  scoundrel  older  in  years  and 
crime,  come  here  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  Xow 
and  then  the  local  paper  contains  a  single  paragraph 
about  the  "  mysterious  disappearance  of  a  young  girl," 
the  sequel  to  which  generally  is  that  she  has  been 
sent  away  by  her  lover  to  be  confined  at  one  of  these 
modern  lying-in  conveniences.   So  common  have  these 


152 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


institutions  become  of  late,  and  so  well  known  are 
they,  that  the  very  knowledge  of  their  existence  has 
tended  to  the  spread  of  private  prostitution.  The  cer- 
tainty of  escape  from  detection  through  the  agency  of 
one  of  these  hells  is  dwelt  upon  in  advance  of  their 
fall,  and  the  fall  hence  is  all  the  more  sure  and  speedy 
in  consequence. 

When  once  her  ruin  is  accomplished,  the  victim 
busies  herself,  if  she  be  poor,  in  securing  the  means  to 
get  away  to  New  York,  for  the  purpose  of  confinement 
in  the  first  place,  and  if  the  offspring  be  born  alive,  to 
have  it  sold  for  adoption  if  possible ;  but  failing  in 
that,  to  have  it  fall  into  the  "  hanging  basket "  of  the 
Foundling  Hospital,  or  strangled  or  starved  by  the 
baby-farmer,  and  its  remains  deposited  in  the  ash- 
barrel  of  that  latest  refinement  of  modern  civilization. 

For  the  blessed  privilege  of  lying-in  at  one  of  these 
filthy  dens,  at  the  close  of  gestation,  the  girl  about  to 
become  a  mother  pays  fifteen  dollars  per  week  for 
board  and  medical  services  and  nursing  through  con- 
finement. 

These  houses,  dignified  with  the  name  of  hospital, 
are  of  the  ordinary  sort,  fitted  up  with  the  cheapest 
furniture,  a  single  room  containing  several  beds,  so 
that  anything  like  privacy  or  decency  is  out  of  the 
question.  There  is  no  need  of  secrecy  now,  and  the 
patients,  sharing  a  common  misery,  and  a  common 
degradation,  huddle  together  in  silence,  waiting  ner- 
vously the  arrival  of  an  event  that  the  true  mother 
hails  as  the  most  critical,  and  yet  the  most  tender  and 
interesting  in  her  whole  life,  the  advent  of  the  first 
fruit  of  a  virtuous  marriage.  Alas,  how  different  such 
approach  on  the  part  of  these  hospital  patients.  Many 
of  them  poor,  far  from  home  and  friends,  shorn  of  all 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  153 


human  sympathy  and  love,  the  qualities  needed  above 
all  others  to  assuage  the  pangs  of  maternity,  lie  for 
weeks,  sometimes  months,  brooding  over  the  tirst  false 
step  that  can  never  be  retraced.  Could  a  chapter  be 
written  by  human  pen,  that  could  fitly  portray  the 
mute  agony,  the  soul-destroying  remorse,  the  unspeak- 
able anguish  of  a  period  so  utterly  desolate,  so  utterly 
hopeless,  with  not  a  ray  of  light  even  to  kindle  it  into 
momentary  brightness,  how  eagerly  would  it  be  read, 
and  how  vividly  remembered  ! 

So  closely  are  these  poor  creatures  packed  away  in 
these  hospitals,  that  a  single  house  is  often  made  to 
accommodate  thirty  patients,  the  luxury  of  a  single 
apartment  being  furnished  at  an  extra,  and  altogether 
extortionate  price.  "What  wonder  that  these  creatures, 
some  of  whom  have  fled  from  comfortable  homes, 
should  prefer  after  all,  the  darkest,  foulest  corner  on 
earth  in  which  to  hide  the  secret  of  their  shame.  If 
the  keeper  of  the  house  has  a  difficult  case,  and  a  death 
is  likely  to  result;  a  regular  physician  is  sent  for.  A 
certificate  of  death  is  all  that  is  needed  to  put  matters 
straight,  allay  suspicion,  and  insure  a  quiet  interment. 
Of  course  this  regular  doctor  grants  such  certificate 
only  upon  the  most  indubitable  evidence  that  such 
death  has  resulted  from  natural  causes.  No  "  squeal- 
ing "  is  indulged  here,  save  in  the  event  of  a  falling- 
out  with  the  physician.  Should  this  regular  and  emi- 
nently respectable  practitioner  of  the  healing  science, 
or  art — what  it  really  is  escapes  us  for  the  moment — > 
fail  to  get  his  fee,  however,  the  ash-barrels  of  the 
hospital  are  inspected  forthwith,  and  a  coroner  called 
in  to  sit  upon — the  ashes.  After  this  the  fee  comes 
without  turning  an  extra  screw  in  this  dirty  business. 

It  is  stated  as  a  well  known  fact,  that  the  infamous 


Prostitution  in  New  YorJc. 


Madam  Restell  does  not  attend  personally  one  in  a 
hundred  of  the  abortions  she  procures.  Many  of  these 
patients  are  married  women  of  supposed  respecta- 
bility, residing  in  the  city,  and  who  of  course  employ 
a  family  physician,  but  who,  desiring.no  further  in- 
crease of  family,  repair,  when  such  increase  seems 
inevitable,  to  the  woman  above  all  others  on  this 
western  continent  who  out-Herods  Herod  himself  in 
her  wholesale  and  undisturbed  "  slaughter  of  the 
innocents." 

The  modus  operandi  of  this  not  very  rare  bit  of 
scientific  murder  can  be  briefly  described  as  follows : 
A  probe  of  silver  concealed  in  the  delicately-formed 
hand  of  this  modern  slayer  of  the  first  unborn,  is  in- 
serted by  stealth  into  the  womb  of  the  victim ;  the 
sack  enclosing  the  foetus  being  thus  punctured,  no 
human  skill  can  prevent  the  premature  birth.  With 
a  graceful  wave  of  the  hand,  after  the  customary  fee 
of  two  hundred  dollars  has  been  paid,  Madame  dis- 
misses her  patient  with  the  significant  remark,  that 
within  three  or  four  days  she  will  need  the  atten- 
tions of  her  family  physician.  The  patient  finds  it 
easy  to  invent  some  story  about  an  "  accident  or  fall," 
and  her  family  physician  is  easily  made  to  believe  her 
story.  If  she  comes  through  safely,  all  is  well,  and 
even  if  she  dies,  the  certificate  of  the  regular  physician 
secures  a  quiet  interment.  This  will  explain  why  we 
never  learn  of  Madam  Restell  losing  patients.  She 
turns  them  all  over  to  the  regular  physician,  who  for 
a  fee  is  discreet  enough  to  keep  quiet.  What  business, 
pray,  has  he  to  meddle  with  family  secrets  ? 

So  much  for  the  boasted  honor  of  the  medical  pro- 
fession. Others  of  her  patients  are  young  unmarried 
girls,  who  undergo  this  ordeal  to  hide  their  shame. 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


155 


Those  that  the  abortionists  loose  find  their  way  into 
the  private  lying-in  hospitals. 

The  profits,  coining  down  to  figures,  of  these  human 
slaughter-houses,  form  the  bond  of  union  between  all 
the  partners  in  this  business.  Of  the  thirty-six  thou- 
sand births  in  this  city  annually,  eight  thousand  are 
illegitimate ;  and  six  thousand  of  these  are  born  in 
the  lying-in  hospitals.  The  average  lying-in  time 
of  each  inmate  is  about  five  weeks,  or  seventy-five 
dollars  for  the  whole  time.  This  sum,  multiplied 
by  the  whole  number,  foots  up  the  business  for  each 
year  at  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  the 
penalty  which  lust  pays  for  its  crimes  committed  in 
one  direction  only. 

The  facts  that  have  recently  come  to  light  through 
a  slight  misunderstanding  between  one  of  the  keep- 
ers of  these  dens  and  a  "  regular  physician,"  are 
not  only  startling  in  themselves,  but  for  another  rea- 
son. We  have  in  this  city  a  Police  Department,  a 
Board  of  Health,  a  Bureau  of  Vital  Statistics,  a  Kegis- 
ter  of  Deaths  and  Burials,  Coroners,  and  several  Found- 
ling Hospitals,  etc.,  etc.,  the  members  and  officers  of 
which  have  been  for  years  in  possession  of  all  the  facts 
bearing  on  this  department  of  crime  ;  officials  whose 
business  it  is  to  keep  watch  of,  and  to  report  to  the  proper 
authorities  every  infringement  of  the  laws  in  relation 
to  abortions,  malpractice,  and  the  abuses  that  result 
from  these  practices.  Why  is  it  that  until  recently 
there  has  been  no  arrests,  no  "  squealing"  on  the  part 
of  any  of  these  public  officials,  including  the  State 
Board  of  Charities  and  Corrections  ?  Are  these  boards 
and  their  subordinates  in  collusion  with  the  criminals, 
who  have  reduced  infanticide  to  a  science,  and  who 
fatten  on  the  gains  filched  from  their  unlucky  victims  2 


15G 


Prostitution  in  New  York* 


What  have  the  hundreds  of  regular  physicians,  cog- 
nizant of  this  whole  dirty  business,  been  doing  during 
this  long  and  undisturbed  reign  of  these  abortion  Bor- 
gias  ?    Are  they,  too,  to  be  held  guiltless,  with  Dr. 
Harris,  of  the  Bureau  of  Vital  Statistics,  and  the  whole 
Health  Board  at  their  back  ?    What  secret  influence 
was  it  that  induced  Coroner  Woltman  to  think  he 
had  no  right  to  arrest  the  woman  Kilbride  in  West 
Twenty-sixth  street,  when  he  knew  she  was  the  slayer 
of  the  infant  boy  Charles  Corey  ?    Is  it  possible  that  a 
coroner,  who  has  been  a  member  of  the  state  legisla- 
ture, does  not  know  that  murder,  in  this  misgoverned 
commonwealth  even,  is  an  indictable  offence,  and  that 
there  was  no  need  of  his  running  after  the  District 
Attorney  to  ascertain  whether  this  woman  could  be 
arrested.    It  was  his  business  to  report  the  case  at  the 
proper  place,  and  to  see  to  it,  moreover,  that  the  arrest 
was  made.    Why,  too,  was  the  Coroner  so  zealous  in 
that  particular  case,  and  why  has  he  been  so  reticent 
in  all  the  others  that  must  perforce  have  fallen  under 
his  eye  ?    What  oyster  could  be  more  dumb  than  this 
official  has  been  during  his  whole  term  ?    The  simple, 
naked  truth,  as  shown  by  recent  developments  in  these 
cases  is,  that  crimes  that  would  turn  the  moral  stomach 
of  a  Hottentot,  or  that  of  a  South-Sea-Island-eating 
cannibal,  are  daily  committed  in  a  department  in  this 
city,  under  the  exclusive  control  of  the  Board  of 
Health,  and  which  are  notorious  among  all  the  officials 
that  do  business  with  the  Board.    For  what  are  these 
officials  paid  princely  salaries  ?  Is  it  not  to  discover  and 
punish  criminals  like  those  who  debauch  the  public 
morals  and  the  public  health  at  the  same  time  by  their 
practices  ?    It  costs  ten  millions  annually  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  the  criminal  branch  alone  of  our  city  gov- 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


157 


eminent,  and  twenty-seven  millions  will  scarcely  foot 
all  the  bills.  This  sum,  enormous  as  it  is,  is  wrung 
from  the  pockets  of  our  over-burdened  tax  payers. 
What  should  the  people  of  this  city  get  in  return  for 
this  lavish  expenditure?  The  answer  is,  a  government 
bo  perfect  in  its  machinery  that  the  escape  from  justice 
of  the  political- criminal  would  be  an  utter  impossi- 
bility. What  do  we  get  instead  ?  A  system  under 
which  we  revel  from  one  year's  end  to  another  in  an 
absolute  carnival  of  crime. 

From  the  highwayman  and  murderer  on  our  streets 
down  to  the  perpetrator  of  the  smallest  misdemeanor, 
not  one  of  them  who  possesses  money  or  influential 
friends,  but  can  either  go  entirely  unwhipped  of 
justice,  or  delay  its  coming  for  so  long  a  period,  that 
its  moral  effect  is  destroyed  when  it  comes.  Bound  to 
the  Juggernaut  of  a  horde  of  rapacious  officials,  drawn 
together  by  mutual  ties,  in  order  that  they  may  per- 
petuate their  own  succession  to  the  places  they  fill, 
they  enrich  themselves  at  the  expense  of  the  people, 
denying  to  their  masters  and  supporters  even,  the  poor 
boon  of  that  protection  which  is  the  chief  object  of  all 
good  government. 

It  is  known,  moreover,  to  be  true, that  many  of  these 
officials,  not  content  with  their  share  of  the  public 
plunder,  collude  with  scoundrels  whom  it  is  their 
business  to  bring  to  punishment,  and  such  collusion 
adds  largely  to  their  official  income.  If  the  enormities 
constantly  committed  within  these  lying-in  hospitals 
shall  be  finally  brought  to  light,  and  their  perpetrators 
punished,  it  will  not  be  through  any  desire  for  their 
punishment  on  the  part  of  those  officials,  but  as  a 
result  of  a  healthier  public  tone,  induced  by  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  facts  themselves. 


153 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


It  is  a  matter  of  some  moment  to  enquire  whether 
New  York  furnishes  all  the  victims  offered  up  annu- 
ally within  her  borders  upon  these  lying-in  altars  of 
lust.  Of  course  no  accurate  figures  are  at  hand.  Not 
even  its  efficient  Board  of  Health,  its  Coroner  rummag* 
ing  through  ash  barrels  to  find  specimens  of  a  species 
that  seems  likely  to  become  extinct  under  his  sitting; 
the  Yital  Statistic  Bureau,  nor  any  other  person  or 
bureau,  has  a  care  as  to  New  York's  share  in  this 
hideous  business.  A  stray  fact  or  out-of-the-way  cir- 
cumstance comes  to  relieve  her  of  a  portion  of  the 
responsibility  of  the  crimes  imputed  to  her. 

Lewdness  is  not  here  with  us  an  exclusive  inherit- 
ance, though  those  who  are  guilty  of  it  elsewhere  find 
the  dark  corners  of  the  metropolis  a  convenient  place 
in  which  to  hide  the  evidences  of  their  own  shame ; 
and  it  is  a  known  fact,  that  hundreds  of  young  women 
come  here  every  year  to  be  relieved  of  their  unwel- 
come offspring,  who  do  not  live  a  hundred  miles 
away. 

The  cities  lying  on  both  banks  of  the  Hudson  fur- 
nish as  many  victims  in  proportion  to  population  as 
does  New  York  herself,  and  this,  too,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  all  great  cities  like  this,  are  in  a  very  large 
sense  a  receptacle  into  which  settles,  unobserved,  the 
moral  filth  engendered  in  its  suburbs,  so  that  when  our 
worse  than  no  municipal  government  is  taken  into  the 
account,  and  the  slight  effort  made  by  us  as  a  people 
to  know  the  extent  of  our  own  shortcomings,  the 
wonder  is  that  we  are  as  clean  as  we  are.  A  breath- 
ing place  for  all  that  is  vile  at  home  and  abroad,  the 
great  wonder  seems  to  be  that  we  are  not  utterly 
beyond  the  hope  or  possibility  of  reform,  if  indeed  we 
are  not  and  shall  continue  to  be  so  long  as  we  permit 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


159 


politic.il  charlatans  and  scoundrels  of  every  grade  to 
fleece  and  misgovern  us. 

It  is  enough  to  bear  quietly  our  own  burdens,  but  we 
manage  to  bear  with  meekness  those  of  our  neighbors 
as  well,  as  the  following  incident  will  serve  to  show : 

Coming  down  from  Albany  a  few  days  after  the 
adjournment  of  the  last  legislature,  we  stopped  as 
usual  for  luncheon  at  the  famous  Johnson  restaurant 
at  Poughkeepsie.  A  friend  whom  I  had  long  known 
as  a  merchant  in  that  city  came  on  board  when  we 
left,  and  not  having  met  him  for  a  long  time,  we  took 
a  seat  together,  and  chatted  pleasantly  all  the  way 
down  to  the  city.  At  one  of  the  stations  below  Pough- 
keepsie, I  think  it  was  at  "New  Hamburgh,  a  creature 
bearing  the  semblance  of  a  man,  but  possessing  as 
repulsive  a  face  as  I  have  ever  seen,  entered  the  cars. 
I  cannot  now  recall,  in  all  my  experience  among  the 
worst  criminals  of  this  and  other  cities,  a  countenance 
so  utterly  destitute  of  a  single  human  quality,  or  one 
so  suggestive  of  all  that  is  beastly  and  villainous.  The 
once  black,  but  now  long,  grizzled  hair,  the  obese 
form,  the  blood-shot,  baggy  eye,  and  the  unsteady 
knock-kneed  shuffle  of  this  monster,  which  I  knew 
him  to  be  the  moment  my  eye  closed  on  him,  led  me 
to  ask  of  my  companion  his  name  and  whereabouts  as 
well  as  that  of  the  shy,  sad-looking  girl  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen  years  who  took  a  seat  beside  him. 

A  glance  at  the  twain  recalled  boyhood  visions  of 
"  Beauty  and  the  Beast."    "  That  man,"  said  my 

friend,  "  is  the  notorious  Dr.  ,  of  our  city,  and  it 

is  perhaps  just  to  say  of  him,  that  a  greater,  or  dirtier 
villain  never  escaped  hanging  than  he.  As  an  abor- 
tionist, a  seducer  of  women,  girls,  and  even  children, 
he  is  without  a  rival  among  us. 


160 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


If  the  half  that  is  reported  of  him  be  true,  and  the 
beastliness  of  his  crimes  is  such  that  it  could  not  be 
described  in  terms  fit  for  human  ears,  even  New  York 
city  does  not  furnish  his  equal.  "With  us,  he  is  a  social 
and  professional  outcast,  but  his  victims  are  numbered 
by  the  score.  The  timid,  sad-eyed  creature,  sitting 
beside  this  ogre,  is  some  unprotected  child  he  has 
picked  up,  and  compelled  to  live  with  him  as  his  wife. 
Up  to  this  time  he  has  escaped  punishment,  though 
several  times  arrested,  but  that  such  a  brute  is  allowed 
to  walk  our  streets,  is  due  solely  to  the  fact  that  crimes 
like  his  are  extremely  difficult  of  detection,  and  yet, 
he  continued,  this  professional  preyer  upon  innocence, 
though  ignored,  by  any  decent  member  of  the  profes- 
sion he  disgraces,  and  who,  as  I  said,  is  in  all  respects 
an  outlaw,  manages  to  thrive  in  a  city  noted  through- 
out the  country  for  its  wealth  and  social  culture. 

"The  secret  records  of  his  filthy  establishment  in  the 
suburbs,  could  they  be  unearthed,  would  show  that 
lewdness  with  us  is  no  uncommon  thing,  and  that 
our  city  and  county  furnishes  its  full  share  of  victims 
sent  away  to  New  York  to  be  treated.  A  young 
woman  of  previous  good  character  and  standing,  will 
now  and  then  drop  out  of  sight  for  a  time,  and  then 
come  back  to  us  with  the  appearance  of  one  who  has 
been  overtaken  by  some  sudden  and  dangerous  illness. 
The  knowing  ones  lift  their  eyebrows,  and  smile  sus- 
piciously, but  the  case  among  her  intimate  friends  is 
well  understood.  This  brute  you  see  there,  or 
some  of  your  city  doctors,  has  done  the  business  for 
her." 

On  arriving  in  New  York  my  friend  and  I  parted, 
and  the  Doctor,  followed  by  his  companion,  took  a 
Fourth  Avenue  car,  and  I  saw  nothing  more  of  them, 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  161 


though  the  face  of  the  man  was  indelibly  stamped 
upon  my  memory. 

Early  one  morning,  about  a  month  afterward,  I  had 
occasion  to  call  at  the  office  of  the  Board  of  Charities 
and  Corrections,  and  as  I  passed  through  the  waiting- 
room,  a  woman  closely  veiled  attracted  my  attention. 
A  moment  after  the  subordinate  she  wished  to  see 
came  in,  and  as  she  addressed  him,  I  recognized  the 
features  of  the  girl  whom  I  had  seen  in  company  with 
the  Poughkeepsie  doctor.  Her  face  was  one  in  which 
an  expression  of  extreme  amiability  was  blended  with 
that  of  a  nature  unsuspecting  and  easily  led  astray, 
and  which  explained  at  a  glance  how  easily  wrought 
had  been  her  fall  from  virtue  and  innocence.  Being 
informed  that  she  must  wait  her  turn  before  stating 
her  case,  as  there  were  others  before  her,  I  ventured 
to  speak  to  her,  and  recalled  the  incident  on  the  cars. 
She  was  very  communicative,  and  I  allowed  her  to 
tell  her  story  almost  without  interruption.  She  was 
sixteen  years  old,  a  native  of  Poughkeepsie,  where  she 
had  lived  until  going  to  Glenham  to  reside  two  years 
before.  She  had  worked  in  the  mills  at  the  latter 
place  until  sent  for  by  an  aunt  living  near  Carmel,  in 
Putnam  County,  who  offered  her  a  temporary  home. 
Being  an  orphan,  and  without  means,  she  accepted  the 
proffered  home,  and  while  there,  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  farmer  in  the  same  neighborhood,  a 
married  man,  and  the  father  of  a  large  family  of  chil- 
dren. 

The  rest  is  easily  told.  She  had  been  induced  by 
this  man  to  leave  her  aunt  and  become  a  servant  in  his 
house,  and  in  a  short  time  he  accomplished  her  ruin. 
Of  course  some  means  had  to  be  devised  to  get  rid  of 
her,  and  if  possible,  the  coming  evidence  of  her  shame  \ 


162 


Prostitution  in  JS\w  York. 


and  having  had  the  Poughkeepsie  doctor's  help  in 
another  similar  case,  the  two  repaired  to  him  for 
assistance  in  this. 

An  effort  to  procure  an  abortion  was  not  successful, 
and  the  poor  girl,  after  suffering  untold  tortures, 
became  so  alarmed,  that  she  refused  to  remain  in  the 
hands  of  the  doctor.  It  was  then  thought  best  to  let 
things  take  their  natural  course,  and  so  a  place  was 
provided  by  her  paramour  at  a  private  lying-in  hospi- 
tal in  this  city.  Two  weeks'  board  was  paid,  with  a 
promise  that  if  more  were  needed,  it  would  be  forth- 
coming. Needing  more  funds,  she  wrote  to  her  se- 
ducer, but  he  neither  came  to  see  her  nor  did  he  send 
her  the  promised  means  to  help  her  through  her  diffi- 
culties. On  the  morning  mentioned,  the  woman- 
keeper  of  the  hospital  turned  her  into  the  street  with- 
out a  moment's  warning,  and  she  had  come  to  beg  her 
way  of  the  Charity  Commissioners,  into  one  of  the 
lying-in  hospitals  of  the  city. 

Her  account  of  the  place  she  had  left  was  straight- 
forward, and  doubtless  true  in  every  particular,  as  she 
seemed  to  be  one  who  had  fallen  by  the  way,  not  from 
native  viciousness,  but  in  consequence  of  her  youth 
and  want  of  protection  against  the  wiles  of  the  villain, 
who  should  have  shielded  her  against  wrong,  instead 
of  wronging  her  so  cruelly  himself. 

Her  experience  at  the  hospital  had  been  bitter  in 
the  extreme.  She  had  occupied  a  small  room,  in 
which  three  besides  herself  were  expecting  to  be  con- 
fined. The  room  and  beds  were  filthy  beyond  descrip- 
tion, the  board  execrable.  The  woman  who  kept  the 
place  got  her  money  in  advance,  and  then  literally 
starved  them  by  offering  them  food  that  no  human 
stomach  could  retain.    Being  utterly  destitute,  and 


Prostitution  in  Xew  York. 


163 


without  friends,  she  was  sent  to  be  cared  for  at  one  of 
the  hospitals  provided  by  the  city  for  that  purpose. 

We  cite  this  case  as  one  of  hundreds  of  similar  ones 
that  come  pouring  in  from  the  cities  on  the  Hudson 
and  towns  contiguous,  just  to  show  that  New  York, 
bad  as  she  is,  owes  much  of  her  wickedness,  and 
thousands  of  the  criminals  found  in  her  dark  places,  to 
the  country  generally,  but  especially  to  her  suburbs. 
Intelligent  people  from  these  suburban  towns  will  tell 
us  that  since  the  war,  private  prostitution,  almost  un- 
known before  it,  is  now  so  common  a  circumstance,  as 
to  render  it  impossible  to  predict  what  is  to  be  the 
effect  upon  our  rural  population. 

While  the  city  of  Poughkeepsie,  with  its  twenty-two 
thousand  people,  boasts  not  a  single  public  house  of 
prostitution,  private  lewdness  is  by  no  means  uncom- 
mon, and  the  same  may  be  said  of  every  large  town 
on  the  Hudson.  When  girls,  or  women,  who  have 
hitherto  been  classed  among  respectable  people,  get  in 
trouble,  they  run  down  here  for  a  visit,  just  as  a  ship 
puts  in  for  repairs,  and  when  matters  are  fixed  up  to 
her  satisfaction,  she  takes  her  place  in  her  accustomed 
circle,  but  New  York  pays  the  penalty  of  her  mis- 
deeds. With  the  lewd  sins  of  the  whole  country  round 
about  us  laid  at  our  door,  and  to  our  charge,  what 
wonder  that  we  should  be  looked  down  at  as  the 
modern  Sodom,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Gomorrah,  of  the 
Western  World  ? 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


"BABY  FARMING." — WHOLESALE  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE 
INNOCENTS. 

The  world  yields  the  palm  to  us  as  a  people  in  the 
matter  of  inventive  genius.  Our  needs  have  been  so 
pressing,  and  our  power  to  supply  them  so  limited, 
that  the  practical  genius  of  the  nation  has  been  driven 
in  the  direction  of  inventions,  and  with  results  that 
have  not  been  surpassed  by  any  people  of  any  period. 
It  is  generally  supposed  that  of  those  high  qualities 
which  produce  in  their  intensest  activity  the  effect  we 
name  civilization,  we  possess  our  full  share,  and  that 
we  have  used  them  to  good  purpese.  We  look  back 
to  the  dark  ages  when  the  light  of  civilization  first 
dawned,  with  a  high  consciousness  of  honest  pride, 
thanking  God  that  we  are  not  as  other  men,  and  es- 
pecially like  these  poor  publicans  and  sinners  who,  un- 
fortunately for  themselves,  lie  behind  us  in  the  order 
of  time,  and  who  are  now  happily  consigned  to  that 
shadowy  realm  from  whose  bourne  no  chivalrous 
knight-errant  even,  will  ever  return. 

When  we  want  to  air  our  piety  or  our  morality,  or 
wish  to  build  to  ourselves  monuments  that  shall  speak 
to  coming  ages  of  the  amplitude  of  our  charity  and 
humanity,  we  turn  back  the  pages  of  history  until  the 
horrors  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition  appear,  or  further 
back  to  the  reigns  of  the  Roman  tyrants,  and  then 
point  the  moral  and  adorn  the  tale  that  history  teaches 

* 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


165 


with  an  exaltation  of  self-estimation  that  lulls  to  rest 
any  lurking  suspicion  that  we  have  not,  after  all, 
reached  that  condition  of  saintliness  that  renders  us 
fit  subjects  for  immediate  translation  to  another  and  a 
brighter  sphere.  Should  we  desire  to  heighten  the 
contrast  by  a  few  vivid  touches,  we  recall  the  days  of 
the  auto  dafe,  the  rack  and  the  thumb-screw,  the  red 
hot  pincers,  the  stocks,  the  blazing  faggot,  and  all  the 
other  gentle  and  tender  arguments  employed  by  the 
promoters  of  the  civilization  of  that  period  in  the 
past,  to  squeeze  the  masses  into  a  condition  that  was 
thought  to  be  indispensible  to  fit  them  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  true  notion  of  the  liberality,  the  exclusive 
inheritance  of  that  intensely  liberal  age. 

Could  we  by  any  possibility  of  research,  get  far 
enough  back  into  the  musty  records  of  the  past,  far 
beyond  the  period  of  the  building  of  the  "  Tower,"  or 
the  Catacombs,  for  example ;  or,  wandering  still  fur- 
ther among  the  tangled  underbrush  of  extinct  civiliza- 
tions, should,  in  some  remote  corner,  find  the  ruins  of 
a  receptacle  in  which  infants  from  the  length  of  a  span 
up  to  two  years'  existence,  were  systematically  starved, 
what  a  burst  of  indignation  would  well  up  from  our 
tender,  honest  hearts ;  what  rivers  of  tears  would  flow 
down  our  burning  cheeks  at  such  an  evidence  of  hea 
thenish  cruelty,  and  how  gladly  would  each  of  us, 
were  it  possible,  seize  a  whip  of  scorpions  and  insist 
upon  going  straight  back  into  the  tombs  of  past  ages 
to  chastise  the  ghosts,  if  nothing  more  tangible  could 
be  found,  of  these  cruel  monsters. 

All  this,  gentle  reader  of  the  last  half  of  the  nine- 
teenth, century,  is  unnecessary.  We  have  among  us, 
right  here  at  our  own  doors,  to-day,  in  this  home  of 
enterprise,   and  of   progress,    the   very   thing  we 


ICO 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


have  been  exploring  the  past  to  find,  but  without  avail, 
for  the  reason  that,  bad  as  were  the  nations  of  anti- 
tiquity,  they  still  had  left  in  them  the  maternal  in- 
stinct, a  quality  once  supposed  to  be  native  to  woman, 
but  which,  alas !  seems  to  have  been  relegated  to  the 
species  that  Darwin  has  elevated  to  the  place  of  hu- 
manity. 

"  Baby  farming,"  in  plain  English,  baby  destruc- 
tion, by  that  gentlest  of  all  remedies  known  as  starva- 
tion, is  the  exclusive  inheritance  of  the  present  age. 
We  seem  to  have  no  record  of  it  before,  and  we  tear- 
fully set  it  down  to  our  own  credit  as  one  of  the  latest 
refinements  of  modern  social  economy. 

Even  now,  but  for  the  reporters  of  the  daily  press 
in  this  city,  a  body  of  intelligent,  faithful,  and  inde- 
fatigable chroniclers,  whose  labors  in  season  and  out 
of  season  have  as  yet  brought  them  no  adequate 
meed  of  appreciation  or  pecuniary  reward,  the  public 
would  still  have  known  little  or  nothing  of  an  institu- 
tion in  our  midst  that  places  the  climax  of  disgrace 
upon  our  boasted  humanity ;  nevertheless,  here  is  the 
measure  to  be  applied  to  ourselves,  and  being  here, 
let  us  get  a  thorough  look  at  it,  and  try  honestly  to 
profit  in  all  needful  ways  by  the  lesson  it  teaches. 

Of  course,  respectable  lewdness,  or  more  accurately 
speaking,  the  lewdness  practiced  by  women  and  girls 
of  previous  good  character,  is  at  the  bottom  of  this 
"  baby  farming  "  business.    So  much  the  worse. 

If  dignified  respectability,  sugared  over  wTith  its 
own  ftxclusiveness,  can  perpetrate  a  crime  so  horrible 
as  that  of  starving  its  own  offspring,  or  ordering  them 
to  be  starved,  preferring  this  mode  of  secrecy  to  a 
public  announcement  of  their  own  shame,  it  would 
seem  that  those  occupying  a  lower  social  grade,  but 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


167 


who  are  guilty  of  the  same  crime,  should  be  dealt 
with  somewhat  tenderly  until  these  high-toned  ones 
are  brought  down  to  the  common  level.  When  dig- 
nity gets  down  into  the  dirt,  there  is  no  excuse  for  the 
folly,  and  it  will  not  do,  as  it  rises,  penitential,  from 
the  pains  and  throes  of  maternity  to  look  solemn,  take 
out  its  well  filled  or  scautily  filled,  purse,  as  the  case 
may  be,  and  order  the  "  new  comer"  to  be  disposed  of 
in  that  most  modern,  but  not  altogether  human  mode 
known  as  "  marasmus."  Even  the  civilization  of  the 
nineteenth  century  can  stand  a  pretty  heavy  run  on 
its  conscience,  but  it  is  extremely  doubtful  if  it  can 
go  into  the  business  of  starving  by  wholesale  even, 
children  who  are  unfortunate  enough  to  have  been 
born  out  of  wedlock,  and  if  a  speedy  end  does  not 
come  to  this  business  here  in  New  York,  then  digni- 
fied respectability,  to  use  an  American  term,  must  get 
on  a  back  seat. 

It  seems  odd  that  an  age  which  takes  to  itself  the 
credit  of  special  efforts  toward  the  elevation  of  the 
race  into  a  broader  and  higher  sphere  of  cultivation 
than  it  has  hitherto  reached,  should  look  with  compla- 
cency upon  a  crime  like  this,  yet  such  is  actually  the 
case.  There  was  a  time  when  every  pure  woman  in 
the  country  shrunk  with  horror  at  the  bare  mention 
of  infanticide.  That  time  has  passed,  thanks  to  our 
artificial,  "  fast"  methods  of  living.  Infanticide  now 
is  not  only  winked  at  as  a  clear  ruse  to  get  rid  of  the 
cares  of  a  household  or  family,  but  the  starving  of 
those  little  unwelcome  evidences  of  passion,  comes  as  a 
natural  sequence  to  the  original  sin. 

The  Bureau  of  Yital  Statistics  in  charge  of  Dr. 
Harris,  shows  that  of  the  thirty-four  thousand  chil- 
dren born  annually  in  this  city,  eight  thousand  are  un- 


168 


Prostitution  in  JVew  YorTc, 


accounted  for  in  accordance  with  the  provisions  and 
regulations  of  the  Health  Board.  Two  thousand  five 
hundred  of  these  are  illegitimate,  and  about  three 
thousand  are  abandoned  or  ordered  to  be  got  rid  of  by 
any  means  known  to  the  modern  art  of  infant  destruc- 
tion. Twenty-five  hundred  are  adopted  or  sold  at 
twenty-five  dollars  per  capita,  a  sum  a  trifle  more  re- 
munerative to  their  owners  than  that  which  calves 
bring  to  theirs  in  our  markets.  Those  that  fall  (we 
mean  the  human  babies)  into  the  hands  of  the  baby 
farming  mid-wife,  the  modern  butcher  of  our  surplus 
infant  population,  never  give  their  mothers,  fathers,  or 
anybody  else,  not  even  Coroner  "Woltman,  any  trouble. 
When  the  fingers  of  one  of  these  baby  farmers  close 
on  a  baby  subject,  one  of  two  things  happens,  a  sale 
of  the  waif  to  pay  expenses,  or  a  "  case,"  in  the  ex- 
pressive language  of  the  regular  physician,  "  of  ma- 
rasmus," followed  by  a  burial  permit.  This  latest  de- 
vice is  the  final  cover  that  places  the  whole  dirty 
transaction,  sub  rosa  and  all  is  smoothed  over  for  an- 
other subject.  Thus  the  little  waifs  go  under  one  after 
another  on  their  journey  to  the  Golgotha  that  awaits 
them,  while  their  parents,  respectable  and  otherwise, 
put  on  their  best  clothes,  and  their  most  unexceptiona- 
ble manners,  and  with  heads  high  in  air,  take  their 
places  in  the  circles  that  missed  them  for  a  brief  pe- 
riod, during  which  they  were  closeted  with  the  baby 
farmer,  but  which  gladly  welcomed  them  on  their  re- 
turn. 

Ah !  how  marvelous  are  some  of  the  results  of  mod- 
ern civilization.  Could  Herod,  we  forget  whether  it 
was  the  tetrarch  or  the  other  Herod,  come  to  us 
from  his  papyri  wrappings  in  the  mummy  pit  that 
enfolds  him,  how  amazed  and  delighted  would  he  be 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  169 


at  the  improved  methods  employed  in  these  inventive 
days,  to  rid  the  world  of  superfluous  offspring. 

Baby  farming,  as  carried  on  in  this  city,  is  as  yet 
emphatically  an  infant  institution,  and  we  humbly 
suggest  to  our  worthy  and  most  puissant  State  Board 
of  Charities  and  Corrections,  that  here  is  a  public  or 
private  infant,  they  may  call  it  what  they  will,  that 
sadly  needs  correction.  If  the  half  be  true  that  is 
affirmed  of  it,  this  infant  threatens  total  annihilation 
to  every  child,  male  or  female,  that  is  found  without 
mother  or  father.  Our  astute  Board  will  see  that  if 
this  infant  is  allowed  to  go  on  without  check,  the 
taking  of  the  census  hereafter  will  be,  so  far  as  the 
human  figures  are  concerned,  a  work  of  supereroga- 
tion. 

Thus  far  the  business  seems  to  have  been  divided 
between  the  midwife  and  the  regular  farmer.  The 
former  assists  in  bringing  the  baby  to  light,  and  is 
usually  the  keeper  of  a  private  lying-in  hospital.  If 
not  sold  at  once,  or  if  the  child  be  sickly,  and  hence 
unsalable,  it  is  passed  over  by  the  mid-wife  to  the 
farmer  whose  business  it  is  to  see  that  the  baby  shall 
give  no  trouble  to  its  parents.  The  business  is  not  a 
complicated  one,  and  when  once  attempted  on  the 
part  of  the  authorities,  after  the  indefatigable  reporters 
had  worked  up  the  case,  the  details  of  it  were  soon 
ascertained,  and  now,  the  daily  press  of  the  city 
having  taken  the  initial  in  ferreting  out  this  most 
gross  and  disgraceful  abuse,  it  is  to  be  hoped  our  wor- 
thy and  well  paid  officials  will  put  a  stop  to  the  busi- 
ness. There  is  certainly  not  the  slightest  reason  why 
they  should  not,  as  there  is  no  promise  of  pecuniary 
reward  from  collusion  with  a  set  of  poverty  stricken 
criminals. 


170  Prostitution  in  New  Fork. 


This  whole  villainous  business  in  our  city  results 
from  two  causes — poverty  and  crime.  A  mother 
overburdened  with  work,  and  the  cares  of  a  rapidly 
increasing  family,  and  the  very  poor  seem  to  be  the 
only  mothers  among  us  who  do  not  resort  to  unnatural 
means  to  prevent  or  check  such  increase,  pass  their 
infants  over  to  the  care  of  the  baby  farmer  or  the 
foundling  hospital.  The  illegitimate  make  up  the 
balance,  and  under  the  basket  system,  as  adopted 
by  the  foundling  hospitals,  any  person  could  have  an 
infant  without  incurring  any  responsibility.  The  little 
waifs  would  be  carried  in  each  morning,  and  no  ques- 
tions, of  course,  asked. 

The  system,  however  human,  is  a  bad  one,  as  it  is 
in  reality  a  bounty  paid  to  crime.  These  baskets  are 
supplied  chiefly,  it  is  supposed,  by  that  class  of  moth- 
ers who  retain  some  affection  for  the  children  they 
bear,  and  who  comfort  themselves  with  the  assurance 
that  "  the  baby  will  be  well  taken  care  of." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  this  crime  should 
flourish  when  the  city  covers  its  eyes  and  holds  out 
both  hands  and  baskets  at  the  same  time  for  the  recep- 
tion of  these  children  of  passion. 

A  decent  regard  for  the  public  purse,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  public  morals,  should  lead  our  Health  Board 
and  Charity  Board  to  adopt  a  plan  of  reception  that 
would  compel  the  parents  of  these  children  to  come 
forward  and  prove  their  inability  to  take  care  of  them, 
and  to  see  to  it,  moreover,  that  the  parents  of  illegiti- 
mates should  not  be  relieved  of  all  responsibility  in  a 
pecuniary  way  for  the  care  of  their  infants. 

The  developments  recently  made  in  this  business 
through  an  accidental  arrest,  show  a  looseness  and  in- 
difference in  its  management,  not  to  say  ignorance, 


Prostitution  in  New  York.  171 

that  are  altogether  reprehensible,  and  for  which  there 
is  not  the  shadow  of  an  excuse.  It  appears  that  for 
years  the  practice,  a  knowledge  of  which  lias  filled 
the  public  mind  with  indignation,  has  been  carried  on 
under  the  very  noses  of  the  Health  and  Charity 
Boards,  and  without  the  slightest  efforts  from  either 
to  punish  delinquents,  or  to  reduce  the  care  of  aban- 
doned and  illegitimate  children  to  something  like  an 
intelligent  system. 

Dr.  Harris,  of  the  Yital  Statistics  Bureau,  tells  us, 
now  that  the  horrible  secrets  of  this  business  are  in 
the  public  ear,  that  "  he  fears  that  by  far  the  greater 
number  of  deaths  from  baby  farming  were  from  neg- 
lect, criminal  or  otherwise,  and  that  some  of  these  baby 
farmers  ought  to  be  arrested  /"  It  is  consoling  to  know 
that  the  fears  of  this  eminently  conscientious  and  care- 
ful public  servant  have  been  at  last  aroused.  What, 
let  us  meekly  ask,  is  the  cause  of  the  fears  of  the  good 
Doctor?  Have  the  quills  of  the  reporters,  and  the 
vigilance  of  the  press  proved  more  than  a  match  for 
the  stolid  indifference  of  the  Doctor  and  the  Board,  in 
which  he  is  a  subordinate  ?  Why,  during  all  these 
years  of  baby  farming,  these  years  of  criminal  neg- 
lect, has  absolutely  nothing  been  done  to  punish  the 
guilty  ones  ? 

In  London  and  in  Paris  these  matters  are  looked 
after  with  a  care  as  to  supervision  and  statistics,  that 
it  would  be  well  for  this  easy-going  official  to  under- 
stand. Does  he  not  know  that  the  hanging  of 
baskets  dangling  from  the  windows  of  foundling  hos- 
pitals, is  a  hanging,  if  not  a  standing,  invitation  to 
lewdness  and  illegitimacy,  and  the  public  want  to 
know  the  extent  of  this  enormity  through  well  arrang- 
ed and  carefully  prepared  statistics,  pointing  out  the 


172 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


sources  and  where  rests  the  responsibility  of  these 
crimes,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  make  use  of 
the  information  that  has  come  to  him  without  solicita- 
tion, by  doing  all  that  within  him  lies  to  induce  the 
Board  that  employs  him,  and  whose  business  it  seems 
to  be  to  look  after  it,  to  see  to  it  that  some  of  these 
murderers  be  brought  to  justice  in  the  first  place,  and 
that  such  a  register  of  all  the  facts  in  connection  with 
the  whole  business  be  made  as  will  render  his  bureau 
a  source  of  intelligent  and  reliable  information,  and 
not  a  sinecure  for  a  careless  and  indifferent  official. 

If  it  shall  appear,  after  all  developments  in  this  di- 
rection, that  the  public  has  fallen  so  low  in  its  esti- 
mate of  the  value  of  human  life  and  decency  that  this 
business  is  to  go  on  unchecked,  then  let  us  erect  for  our 
use  u  baby  towers,"  similar  to  those  found  among  the 
pagans  of  China,  into  which  superfluous  female  infants 
are  still  cast  at  their  birth,  and  from  which  they  never 
emerge.  We  could  improve  on  the  Chinese  system  by 
making  no  distinction  of  sex,  race,  color,  or  condition, 
and  so  establish  the  custom  in  full  conformity  with  the 
enlightened  and  extremely  sensitive  spirit  of  the  age. 

The  wilful  ignorance  and  indifference  shown  by 
both  the  Boards  mentioned  in  this  and  other  matters, 
vital  to  the  health  of  this  city,  serve  as  another  illus- 
tration of  the  utterly  indifferent  way  in  which  our 
whole  city  government  is  conducted.  Paris,  with  her 
population  of  two  millions,  exhibits  a  record  in  this 
department  of  crime  in  the  way  of  statistics  and  in- 
telligent supervision,  that  would  astonish  even  Dr. 
Harris  and  the  Health  Board,  while  to  New  York  city 
officials,  as  a  class,  it  would  be  an  enigma  altogether 
beyond  their  peculiar  grade  of  intelligence  to  solve. 

But  then  it  will  be  urged  that  we  are  a  young  na- 


Prostitution  in  New  Yurie. 


173 


tion,  and  that  statistical  science  with  us  is  jet  in  its 
infancy,  and  that  the  thorough  and  admirable  way  in 
which  crime  and  criminals  are  looked  after  in  the 
crowded  centres  of  Europe,  is  not  hence  to  be  expect- 
ed of  us.  The  argument  would  be  a  valid  one,  but 
for  this  little  circumstance. 

Our  city  contains  less  than  a  million  of  souls,  so 
packed  together  as  to  afford  easy  access  to  any  class  of 
facts  or  figures  which  may  be  needed  to  show  the 
actual  condition  of  any  portion  of  our  popula- 
tion down  to  the  minutest  detail.  Notwithstanding 
all  this,  it  costs  more  to  run  the  machinery  of  our  city 
government  than  any  other  of  its  size  perhaps  in  the 
world,  and  what  makes  the  result  more  galling  to  our 
intelligence  is,  the  absolute  poverty  of  results  that  flow 
from  the  running  of  it. 

The  need  of  reliable  and  carefully  arranged  data 
bearing  upon  any  given  subject  is  felt  not  alone  in  this 
city,  it  is  the  great  vital  need  of  the  nation.  Making 
all  due  allowances  for  youth,  the  immense  area  to  be 
canvassed,  there  still  remains  the  humiliating  fact,  and 
of  which  what  we  have  cited  are  collaterals,  that  no 
census  has  yet  been  taken  that  has  proved  itself  worth 
the  paper  upon  which  it  was  printed,  to  say  nothing 
of  its  cost  to  the  nation.  No  single  subject,  whether 
of  population,  or  disease,  crime,  or  of  production  in 
any  of  its  department's,  finds  an  intelligent  record  in 
any  census  table  prepared  by  the  government  up  to 
this  time.  As  these  tables,  when*  accurately  and  fully 
made,  form  the  key  to  effective  discipline  and  good 
methods  in  the  science  of  government,  it  is  not  strange 
that  we  should,  as  a  nation,  have  fallen  far  below 
older  and  better  trained  peoples  than  ourselves. 

Nevertheless,  with  us  in  this  State,  with  our  four 


171 


Prostitution  in  New  York. 


millions  of  people,  there  is  no  excuse  for  this  deficien- 
cy, and  it  is  a  fact  not  at  all  to  our  credit,  that  Massa- 
chusetts has  far  outstripped  us  in  laying  the  founda- 
tion for  a  State  Bureau  of  Statistics  illustrating  every 
department  of  her  practical,  social  and  domestic  life. 
Its  good  results  have  been  already  witnessed  in  the 
way  of  pointing  out  defects  in  present  methods,  and 
suggesting  improvements  that  her  enterprising  and 
thrifty  people  will  not  be  slow  to  adopt. 

If  each  state  would  furnish  the  government  with  an 
equally  well  arranged  and  carefully  collected  mass  of 
information  upon  economic  questions,  the  next  general 
census  would  become  a  volume  of  useful,  ready  refer- 
ence, and  not  what  the  present  one  is,  a  bit  of  paper 
lumber  of  little  or  no  account. 

But,  as  we  have  said,  these  good  results  must  come 
to  us  at  last ;  and  now,  while  the  country  suffers  such 
a  depression  in  all  directions  as  it  has  never  felt  before, 
is  a  good  time  to  begin  to  lay  the  foundation  upon 
which  they  must  come.  When  we  have  learned  how 
to  take  care  of  our  paupers,  criminals  of  every  grade, 
and  to  conduct  our  national  and  local  governments 
with  sole  reference  to  a  wise  economy,  and  for  the  good 
of  all  concerned,  we  shall  begin  to  realize  how  much 
injustice  has  been  wrought  during  all  these  years  of 
hap-hazard  administration,  and  it  is  proper  to  suggest, 
in  reference  to  the  government  of  this  city,  that  if  the 
reforms  needed  in  this  direction  be  not  speedily  inau- 
gurated, New  York  will  soon  cease  to  be  the  metrop- 
olis of  the  nation. 

In  any  other  country  under  heaven,  where  law  com- 
mands respect,  and  justice  is  not  a  mockery,  such 
wholesale  plundering  of  the  tax  payers  by  rings,  as 
has  been  witnessed  here  during  the  past  ten  yoars, 


Prostitution  in  Hew  York.  175 


would  lead  to  absolute  anarchy,  yet  year  after  year 
we  go  on  in  the  same  rut,  growling  a  little,  but  foot- 
ing the  bills  at  last,  thanking  providence  that  the 
thieves  who  pluck  and  plunder  us  are  of  our  own 
making,  and  that  as  good  subjects  we  must  bow  our 
necks,  subjugvm^  and  without  a  murmur.  When  the 
better  clay  dawns,  and  it  must  come  sooner  or  later, 
some,  at  least  of  the  gross  abuses  mentioned  in  this 
chapter  will  disappear,  and  if  the  people  who  submit 
to  this  robbery  will  bestow  a  tithe  of  the  care  they 
give  to  their  private  concerns,  upon  the  public  inter- 
ests, the  day  will  not  be  long  in  coming. 


n 

«  1 


The   Unfortunate  beggar. 


PART  SHOOND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BEGGARS  AND  PAUPERS. 

A  gentleman  on  his  way  home  in  East  Broadway 
late  at  night  a  few  months  ago,  as  he  was  passing  from 
a  side  street  into  Chatham  square,  stumbled  over  what 
proved  to  be  the  body  of  a  dead  man.  Calling  a  po- 
liceman standing  near,  the  body  was  removed  to  the 
nearest  station  house.  On  examination,  cuts  and  bruises 
were  discovered  on  different  parts  of  the  head,  chest, 
and  arms,  indicating  a  fierce  struggle.  The  man  had 
evidently  been  murdered,  though  for  what  cause  it 
was  impossible  to  conjecture,  as  there  was  nothing  in 
his  appearance  or  dress  that  bore  the  slightest  suspi- 
cion that  he  could  have  been  despatched  for  his  money. 
Everything  about  him  bore  evidence  of  the  most  ex- 
treme poverty. 

The  body  was  still  warm,  but  pulsation  had  ceased, 
and  death  had  doubtless  resulted  from  hemorrhage. 
Before  the  physician  who  had  been  sent  for  arrived,  an 
old  woman,  known  as  a  beggar  in  the  vicinity,  made 
her  appearance,  recognized  the  body  as  that  of  her 
husband,  and  on  being  refused  permission  to  remove 
it,  began  a  series  of  wails  and  screams  of  the  most 
frantic  description.  It  was  observed  by  the  police- 
man in  attendance  that,  though  very  noisy  and  demon- 


ITS  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


strative,  there  was  no  sign  of  real  grief  in  the  old 
hag's  manner,  so  that  its  simulation  was  not  only  a 
failure,  but  disgusting.  It  was  not  until  portions  of 
the  clothing  were  being  removed,  to  ascertain  if  pos- 
sible any  further  evidences  of  violence,  that  the  real 
cause  of  the  woman's  howls  and  yells  and  curses  were 
discovered.  On  stripping  the  body  to  the  waist,  there 
was  found  around  it  a  leathern  belt,  in  which  were 
concealed  over  twelve  hundred  dollars  in  gold. 

The  true  secret  of  the  woman's  connection  with  the 
murdered  man  was  solved,  and  the  fear  that  the  ducats 
in  his  belt  would  never  be  clutched  by  her  own  fin- 
gers, had  rendered  her  nearly  frantic. 

We  cite  this  case  to  show  that  beggary  has  two  sides 
wherever  found,  a  criminal  or  hypocritical  side,  and 
another  that  comes  welling  up  from  the  depths  of  real 
misfortune,  a  phase  of  it  when  fully  understood  and 
known  to  be  real,  never  fails  to  find  a  hearty  response 
on  the  part  of  the  really  benevolent  and  kind-hearted, 
who  make  it  a  part  of  their  daily  routine  to  look  after 
these  unfortunate  wrecks  as  they  come  drifting  to  our 
doors  from  the  great  sea  of  poverty  and  suffering  that 
lies  all  around  us.  A  picture  that  would  fitly  des- 
cribe the  criminal  side  of  this  great  city  would  be 
altogether  incomplete  that  should  omit  its  beggars, 
and  especially  its  professional  mendicants,  who,  as  a 
class,  and  they  are  a  distinct  order  everywhere,  are 
almost  invariably  criminals.  Hence  its  insertion  in 
this  volume. 

Whatever  its  condition,  every  grade  of  the  world's 
civilization  exhibits  the  beggar.  The  real  is  always 
an  object  of  sympathy,  the  professional,  sui  generis, 
and  when  discovered,  is  always  an  object  that  one 
feels  an  irresistible  impulse  to  collar  or  foot  into  the 


Beggars  and  Paupers,  179 

street ;  nevertheless,  they  are  all,  taken  together,  the 
world's  heritage,  to  be  disposed  of  as  shall  seem  meet. 

Man  maintains  his  foothold  everywhere,  it  is  said, 
but  the  tenure  of  these  last,  turned  up  from  the  social 
subsoil  of  a  great  city  like  this,  is  so  slight,  that  they 
can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  any  existence  at  all.  Our 
only  consolation  is  found  in  the  fact  that  the  beggar  is 
indigenous  to  all  soils,  and  so,  wrapping  ourselves  in 
the  mantle  of  our  charity,  we  go  out  to  succor  the 
really  deserving  poor,  and  to  punish  if  possible  the 
undeserving. 

We  have  sometimes  thought,  in  our  wanderings, 
that  the  theory  of  the  unity  of  the  races  has  no  more 
irrefragible  proof  than  the  universality  of  this  beg- 
garly fraternity.  In  the  soft,  enervating  atmosphere 
of  the  tropics  he  is  an  institution,  fat,  sleek,  and  well- 
mannered,  bearing  in  his  temperament  and  face  the 
evidences  of  the  exuberant  vitality  and  richness  of 
the  soil  that  gives  him  birth.  Penetrate  if  you  will,  to 
regions  where  snow  and  ice  are  perpetual,  and  where 
the  keen  air  quickens  both  blood  and  step  into  new 
life,  and  here,  too,  is  the  beggar.  Penetrate  still  fur- 
ther into  the  limits  where  vegetation  is  almost  un- 
known, and  even  here,  hat  in  hand,  if  indeed  he  has 
a  hat,  you  are  confronted  by  the  lordly,  independent, 
confident,  serene  beggar.  Climate  has  its  effect  upon 
him,  otherwise  he  would  be  indistinguishable  from  the 
mass,  but  in  all  other  respects  the  professional  mendi- 
cant, with  whom  we  have  chiefly  to  deal  in  this  chap- 
ter, is  a  fac-simile  of  any  other  of  his  kind,  and  what 
is  more,  all  of  his  class  are  thoroughly  contemptible. 

But,  despite  what  we  have  said  of  the  professionals, 
there  are  beggars,  and  plenty  of  them,  who  come  to 
us  with  bodies  so  emaciated  by  starvation  and  disease, 


180  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


and  whose  faces  bear  in  tliem  so  much  of  grief,  suffer- 
ing, deeply-rooted  sorrow,  and  of  absolute  despair, 
that  a  heart  of  stone  would  soften  at  the  very  sight 
of  them.  These  are  the  ones  who  answer  most  fitly 
the  description  of  God's  poor,  "  the  poor  ye  have  al- 
ways with  you,"  and  for  whose  relief  the  really  bene- 
volent are  seldom  appealed  to  in  vain. 

Among  these  last  are  a  distinct  portion,  small  in 
number,  to  their  infinite  credit  be  it  said,  who  deserve 
especial  mention,  and  not  this  alone,  but  who  are 
worthy  of  the  tenderest,  kindliest  sympathy  in  the 
power  of  humanity  to  bestow.  We  mean  those  self- 
respectable,  proud,  sensitive  poor,  who  come  to  us,  if 
they  come  at  all,  from  the  depths  of  a  poverty  so  gall- 
ing, or  a  misfortune  or  sorrow  so  profound,  that  the 
very  sight  of  them  kindles  even  stolidity  into  an  un- 
wonted warmth,  unlocking  the  heart  even  of  the 
miser,  and  that  well-to-do  affluence  that  believes  all 
poverty  is  a  crime  deserving  of  starvation,  or  some- 
thing worse. 

When  these  beg,  it  is  only  as  the  alternative  of  ab- 
solute starvation.  So  long  as  the  most  superhuman 
efforts  of  brain  or  hand  will  keep  the  wolf  of  want,  or 
the  less  terrible  messenger  of  death,  from  the  door, 
they  never  ask  alms.  No  human  measure  can  fathom, 
no  human  pen  portray,  the  pent-up  agony  that  these 
will  endure,  rather  than  beg.  It  is  only  when  every 
resource  has  given  out,  when  the  crucible  contains  no 
drop  of  oil,  when  heart  and  soul,  and  every  mortal 
energy  have  given  way,  and  left  them  utterly  alone  in 
their  destitution,  that  beggary  comes  as  a  last  resort. 
At  the  very  door  of  death,  pride  and  poverty  with 
these  sometimes  clasp  their  spectral  fingers,  only  how- 
ever with  a  firm  resolve  to  renew  the  battle  of  life 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  181 


with  redoubled  energy.  Such  as  these  are  not  often 
or  long  beggars,  but  'it  is  safe  to  say  that  while  the 
struggle  lasts,  there  is  no  class  of  our  population  that 
Buffers  so  much  in  the  same  period  of  time,  or  who 
suffer  so  uncomplainingly  as  these.  Often  reared  in 
affluence,  and  amidst  the  most  delightful  surroundings 
and  associations,  the  pangs  of  poverty  and  want  come 
mingled  with  the  bitter  memory  of  other  and  brighter 
days,  days  sunny  and  warm  with  love,  and  hope,  and 
courage,  and  all  that  makes  life  worth  the  living. 

Those  who  have  been  bom  to  poverty,  and  who 
have  never  known  any  other  condition,  accept  it  as 
the  one  inevitable  fact  of  their  existence,  and  thous- 
ands of  weak-hearted  ones  surrender,  after  a  struggle 
or  two,  to  the  fate  that  seems  unavoidable,  and  go 
thence  shuffling  the  rest  of  the  way  without  a  thought 
or  a  care  beyond  the  present  moment.  Hope,  ambi- 
tion, if  they  ever  reach  so  high  a  feeling,  or  even  a 
wish  for  anything  better  than  their  present  forlorn  ex- 
istence, drops  out  altogether,  so  that  they  plod  their 
weary  way  without  a  murmur  and  without  a  care  whe- 
ther life  shall  bring  to  them  or  not  the  pleasant  things 
that  it  brings  to  others  around  them. 

Alas,  how  different  the  daily  life  of  the  others. 
With  each  returning  day  there  comes,  in  addition  to 
the  tug  for  bread,  the  longing  for  the  old  delights  that 
have  gone  forever,  the  dear  companionship  of  friends, 
the  pleasant  home,  the  songs  that  made  glad  the  hours, 
and  filled  the  soul  full  of  tender  thoughts  and  memo- 
ries, all  are  present  to  heighten  by  contrast  the  miser- 
ies of  these  later  days.  The  naked  floor,  the  bed  of 
straw,  the  sickly  flower  on  the  window  sill,  the  only 
link  between  the  present  and  the  past,  only  serve  to 
make  life  more  unendurable.    The  daily  routine,  the 


182 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


unceasing  life  and  death  struggle  with  this  phase  of 
poverty  is,  after  all,  the  best  part  of  it.  It  is  some- 
thing that  cannot  be  pushed  away,  and  while  it  lasts, 
it  serves  to  assuage,  in  some  degree,  the  horrors  of  a 
life  in  which  want  goes  hand  in  hand  with  idleness. 

In  a  great  city  like  this  it  is  impossible  to  mistake 
this  class  of  unfortunates.  It  is  never  clad  in  rags, 
never  filthy,  never  importunate.  Patched  and  scanty 
always  as  are  its  garments,  they  are  invariably  clean 
and  neat.  You  know  them  at  a  glance,  and  you  know 
at  the  same  moment  that  poverty  has  not  come  to 
them  as  a  birthright,  but  by  some  sudden,  cruel,  blow 
of  fortune  that  reversed  at  one  turn  every  current  of 
their  lives.  The  pale  face,  a  picture  of  agony  long 
but  silently  suffered,  the  sunken  eye,  the  withered 
form,  the  furtive  glance,  and  the  painful  evidences 
in  manner  and  costume  to  keep  up  appearances,  are 
unmistakable. 

They  are  rarely  seen  on  the  public  promenade,  or  in 
the  fashionable  quarters ;  never  at  places  of  amuse- 
ment, having  reached  a  point  at  which  amusement 
never  enters.  At  church,  if  they  can  make  them- 
selves sufficiently  decent  to  be  seen,  they  occupy  some 
corner  where  even  poverty  goes  unobserved.  Should 
they  stagger  to  your  door  for  help  after  the  last  crumb 
has  disappeared,  it  will  be  with  an  appearance  and 
demeanor  so  modest  and  so  touching  that  any  misap- 
prehension as  to  their  real  character  is  impossible. 
Could  the  money  which  the  city  wastes  every  year 
upon  the  pauper  hummers  of  the  station  houses  be 
used  to  supply  the  real  needs  of  this  class  of  our  poor, 
it  would  prove  a  source  of  comfort  incalculable  to  a 
class  to  whom  comfort  would  come  as  the  summer 
rain  upon  the  thirsty  earth.    The  class  we  have  des- 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


183 


cribed  are  not  to  be  mistaken  for  that  which  is  known 
as  the  genteel  poor,  a  kind  of  decent,  thread-bare,  but 
still  independent  poverty  that  suffers  only  in  its  pride, 
its  real  wants  being  tolerably  supplied,  and  for  which 
this  chapter  has  no  place.  Our  plea  for  the  other  has 
been  made  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  seldom  pleads 
for  itself,  and  never,  so  long  as  a  single  shred  of  hope 
remains. 

Tom  Hood,  propped  up  by  pillows,  described  these 
unfortunates,  as  his  own  life  was  ebbing  away,  in  lines 
that  will  live  as  long  as  poverty  lasts  on  the  earth. 
At  a  moment  when  respectable  penury  had  reached 
in  London  its  very  lowest  round  of  suffering  from 
want  of  employment,  the  "  Song  of  the  Shirt "  went 
knocking  at  every  door,  and  at  every  heart  in  Eng- 
land : — 

"  Work  !  work  !  work  ! 

While  the  cock  is  crowing  aloof! 

And  work — work — work, 

Till  the  stars  shine  through  the  roof! 

It's  oh  !  to  be  a  slave 

Along  with  the  barbarous  turk, 

Where  woman  has  never  a  soul  to  save, 

If  this  is  Christian  work ! 

u  Work — work — work ! 
From  weary  chime  to  chime, 
Work — work — work, 
As  prisoners  work  for  crime  ! 
Band,  and  gusset,  and  seam, 
Seam,  and  gusset,  and  band, 
Till  the  heart  is  sick,  and  the  brain  benumb'd, 
As  well  as  the  weary  hand. 

"  Oh  !  but  for  one  short  "hour  : 
A  respite  however  brief  ! 
No  blessed  leisure  for  Love  or  Hope, 
But  only  time  for  Grief ! 


184  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


A  little  weeping  would  ease  my  heart, 
But  in  their  briny  bed 
My  tears  must  stop,  for  every  drop 
Hinders  needle  and  thread!" 

In  a  great  city  like  London,  with  its  three  millions 
of  people,  the  accumulation  of  centuries  from  an  over- 
crowded area,  this  class  forms  a  larger  part  of  the 
whole  pauper  population  than  in  this  country  where 
the  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood  are  more  varied,  and 
where  the  resources  are  more  evenly  distributed,  so 
that  cases  like  these  we  have  cited  are  of  comparative 
isolation,  still,  there  are  in  New  York,  and  for  very 
obvious  reasons,  more  of  these  than  can  be  found  in 
any,  or  perhaps  all  of  our  other  cities  put  together.  What 
else  could  be  expected  from  a  city  that  gathers  to 
itself  from  its  very  location  its  own  and  the  refuse  of 
the  world's  population,  thousands  of  the  more  decent 
of  whom  huddle  together  in  one  frantic  struggle  to 
keep  body  and  soul  together. 

In  a  varied  round  of  duties  running  through  many 
consecutive  years,  we  have  been  forced  to  witness 
scenes  of  want  and  suffering  the  memory  of  which  can 
never  be  effaced,  and  which  must  be  laid  away  as  by 
far  the  most  disagreeable  portion  of  a  life  crowded 
with  disagreeable,  though  often  the  most  intensely  in- 
teresting and  exciting  incidents.  In  the  homes  of  our 
sewing  women  alone,  as  a  distinct  class,  there  can  be 
witnessed  daily  evidences  of  suffering,  mental  and 
bodily,  that  cannot  be  contemplated,  at  a  distance 
even,  without  a  shudder. 

"Why,  says  the  querist,  do  people  like  these,  who 
have  known  better  days,  insist  upon  remaining  where 
absolute  and  continuous  poverty  must  be  met  and 
faced  with  every  dawn  that  breaks  in  upon  their  mis- 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


185 


erable  lives!  The  answer  is  not  difficult,  so  far  as 
very  many  of  these  are  concerned.  The  thriftless, 
the  profligate,  and  tiie  lazy,  indeed  the  whole  army  of 
professionals,  together  with  those  who  inherit  poverty 
and  cling  to  it  with  bull-dog  tenacity,  prefer  their 
filth  and  laziness  and  rags,  with  the  certainty  of  star- 
vation in  the  end,  to  the  comfort  they  have  never 
known,  and  which  could  be  secured  in  the  country  by 
a  moderate  effort  in  the  way  of  work.  Ask  this  dis- 
gusting crowd  of  lazaroni,  covered  with  vermin  and 
foulness,  as  they  lie  by  hundreds  almost  naked  upon 
the  station  house  floors  and  pavements,  on  any  cold 
night,  and  they  will  tell  you  u  the  country  is  a  lone- 
some place,"  and  that  "  they  couldn't  possibly  live 
wray  out  there,"  and  besides  that  "  they  have  no  money 
to  get  away  with,  and  the  work  is  so  hard,"  preferring 
positively  anything  that  comes  to  them  in  the  way  of 
poverty,  if  only  it  can  be  hugged  and  enjoyed  in  the 
garret  or  the  reeking  basement  of  a  large  city. 
Strange  infatuation,  that  finds  in  rags,  filth  and  dis- 
ease, a  kind  of  enjoyment  that  is  in  itself  a  fascination 
not  to  be  resisted.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that 
poverty  of  this  sort  is  gregarious,  and  must  needs  re- 
solve itself  into  an  aristocracy  of  numbers  and  modes 
of  living  peculiarly  its  own. 

How  different  the  lives  of  the  sewing  women  as  a 
class,  they  who  tug  on  from  year  to  year,  the  end  of 
each  finding  them  poorer  in  flesh,  spirit  and  purse 
than  its  beginning,  until  at  last,  after  a  life  struggle  in 
which  the  heroic  and  the  moral  sublime  have  entered 
as  constant  elements,  rest  comes  at  last,  and  never  un- 
welcome, in  the  six  feet  of  earth  which  is  the  common 
heritage  at  last,  of  all  that  is  human  ! 

Well-to-do  affluence,  sitting  snug  and  cosey  in  front 


1*6  Beggars  and  Paupers, 


of  its  blazing  grate,  its  feet  encased  in  velvet  slippers, 
a  sweet  sense  of  comfort  in  all  its  surroundings,  seldom 
condescends  to  look  out  from  its  warm  wrappings  upon 
the  squalor  and  the  wretchedness  around  it,  and  what 
is  still  worse,  seldom  condescends  to  do  full  justice  to 
those  less  fortunate  in  their  life  and  living,  and  it  is 
only  when  the  breath  of  misfortune  touches  its  own 
hearth,  and  turns  in  a  moment  comfort  to  penury,  that 
the  woes  and  wants  of  others  command  from  them  the 
sympathy  that,  roused  before,  could  have  been  of  ser- 
vice in  relieving  some  poor  unfortunate  who  has  fallen 
by  the  way.  As  a  looker-in  upon  out-of-the-way  places 
I  have  been  more  curious  to  observe  the  haunts  and 
ways  of  the  deserving  poor  than  of  any  other  class,  and  . 
have  sometimes  listened  to  stories  of  suffering  from 
their  own  lips,  and  been  familiar  with  incidents  in 
their  history,  that  would  have  found  in  me  an  inatten- 
tive listener  had  they  come  at  second  hand.  It  is  ab- 
solute contact  with  the  despairing  from  poverty  that 
calls  out  what  is  best  in  us  in  the  way  of  sympathy 
and  active  benevolence. 

In  the  summer  of  1872  an  attache  of  the  Health 
Board,  with  whom  I  had  long  been  on  terms  of  famil- 
iar intimacy,  and  who  at  the  time  had  on  his  hands 
some  half  dozen  families  of  that  class  of  proud  poor, 
which  seldom  calls  for  aid,  asked  me  to  take  a  round 
with  him,  as  he  had  one  case  of  especial  interest. 
Speaking  of  that  poverty  which  is  too  proud  to  beg,  let 
me  ask  why  it  is  that  it  so  seldom  commands  our  ready 
sympathy,  but  on  the  contrary  not  unfrequently  elicits 
our  contempt?  Is  it  because  it  has  not  reached  that 
condition  of  abjectness  that  renders  it  a  humble  suppli- 
ant at  our  doors,  and  hence  fails  to  set  off  our  own 
opulence  ? 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


187 


Why  is  it  that  the  impudent,  insolent,  hardened 
face  of  the  trained  mendicant  at  our  doors,  is  more 
likely  at  a  first  glance  to  find  favor  in  our  eyes, 
than  the  proud,  sensitive  creature  that  conies  with  un- 
certain step  and  modest  mien  to  ask  for  charity  ?  It  is 
certain  that  pride  alone  has  kept  them  from  our  doors 
until  driven  by  the  pangs  of  hunger  into  the  street  for 
bread.  The  quality  that  does  this  may  not  be  in  itself 
a  pleasing  one  in  a  beggar  for  alms,  but  to  us  it  has 
always  seemed  as  the  one  stern,  uncompromising  trait 
in  a  self-respectful  man  or  woman,  that  would  com- 
mand, but  for  our  own  selfishness  and  vanity,  and,  we 
will  add,  self-sufficiency,  the  most  profound  regard  and 
ready  sympathy.  As  we  passed  along  down  West 
Broadway  toward  St.  John's  Park,  we  had  indulged  a 
lively  discussion  upon  this  curious  side  of  human  van- 
ity, when  we  found  ourselves  at  the  door  of  one  of 
those  quaint  old  Dutch  houses  of  a  period  long  since 
past,  and  of  which  but  few  architectural  landmarks 
remain. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  pauper's  death  bed. 

Threading  our  way  up  the  outside  flights  of  rickety 
Btairs  to  the  third  story,  we  felt  our  way  to  an  apart- 
ment lighted  by  a  single  candle  and  occupied  by  three 
persons,  the  surviving  remnants  of  what  had  been  a 
family  of  seven,  four  of  whom,  a  son  and  three  daugh- 
ters had  died  before  with  that  fell  destroyer  in  our 
climate,  consumption.  A  shambling  mass  of  tenement 
houses  surrounded  the  building,  and  through  the  open 
windows  came  the  fumes  from  a  stable  near,  showing 
that  the  locality  was  one  in  which  the  poor,  though 
not  the  poorest  of  our  population,  huddle  together,  in 
a  common  fight  for  bread  and  existence. 

I  had  been  long  used  to  the  places  where  shameless 
poverty  burrowed  in  rags  and  filth,  but  here  was  nei- 
ther filth  nor  rags,  yet  the  inventory  of  the  effects  of 
this  family  could  be  made  in  a  moment.  One  by  one 
the  little  articles  of  comfort  that  their  better  years  had 
known,  had  gone  to  the  pawnbroker's  and  had  never 
been  redeemed  ;  a  faded  carpet,  a  few  old  fashioned 
chairs,  a  well-worn  bureau  with  brass  handles,  the  style 
of  a  century  ago,  a  stove,  two  beds,  and  a  few  table 
bits  of  crockery,  composed  the  furniture  of  the  room. 
Despite  its  poverty,  the  room  was  neatness  itself. 

On  a  bed  in  one  corner  lay  the  father  of  the  family, 
a  man  of  originally  delicate  frame,  but  now  shrunk  to 
a  thinness  that  was  appalling.  He  was  in  the  very 
last  stage  of  the  destroyer  of  his  children,  and  as  I 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  189 

looked  at  him  lying  there  so  still,  his  hands  folded 
upon  his  breast,  his  cheeks  tinged  with  the  treacherous 
hectic  glow,  that  disappears  only  with  the  life  of  the 
consumptive  patient,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  never 
witnessed  so  melancholy  a  scene  before.  Yet  I  had 
not  seen  the  half.  After  speaking  a  moment  with  the 
sick  man,  the  wife  and  mother,  a  woman  still  in  her 
prime,  but  worn  to  a  shadow  by  want  and  watching, 
led  me  to  a  little  room  adjoining,  where  lay  their  only 
child,  a  daughter  of  thirteen  years,  dying  from  the 
same  disease.  Bending  over  the  patched  but  snow- 
white  coverlid,  a  faded  remnant  of  their  better  days, 
she  took  the  hand  of  the  sufferer,  but  could  not  speak 
to  her.  She  had  not  spoken  to  either  my  friend  or  my- 
self as  we  entered,  and  there  was  in  her  withered  face 
as  she  stood  there,  candle  in  hand,  a  look  of  mute,  ap- 
palling agony,  that  I  longed  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  of 
the  street.  What,  thought  I,  have  these  poor  creat- 
ures done  to  deserve  such  a  fate  ?  A  moment  more 
and  the  face  of  the  mother  lay  buried  in  the  pillow  over 
which  it  had  hovered.  She  did  not  sob  or  weep  even, 
but  there  came  a  moan  from  that  pillow,  faint  though 
it  was,  that  I  shall  never  forget.  In  another  moment 
she  was  quite  herself,  and  pointing  to  the  child,  mum- 
bled, she  seemed  to  have  almost  lost  the  power  of 
speech,  that  she  was  the  last  of  five  children,  each  of 
whom  as  it  came,  had  been  all  and  all  to  her.  llally- 
ing  as  she  continued,  she  went  on  to  say,  that  for  four 
years  her  husband  had  been  unable  to  work,  and  that 
she  had  managed,  until  within  a  month,  to  support 
with  her  own  hands  her  little  family,  and  provide  for 
the  two  sick  ones  besides  many  comforts  that  were  in- 
dispensable, with  now  and  then  a  little  extra  in  the 
way  of  delicacies,  prepared  with  her  own  hand.  A 


190 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


few  weeks  before,  the  house  that  had  furnished  her 
sewing  failed,  and  with  that  her  only  means  of  support 
had  vanished,  as  she  had  been  unable  to  find  employ- 
ment elsewhere.  I  enquired  if  she  had  no  relatives 
upon  whom  she  could  call.  She  had  none,  and  save  a 
few  church  acquaintances,  had  no  friends  in  the  city. 
She  had  been,  poor  creature,  too  busy  with  her  sewing 
and  her  sick  ones  to  make  friends,  and  had  given  up 
in  despair  until  some  one  told  her  that  she  should  pre- 
sent her  case  to  the  Board  of  Health.  For  several 
days  she  hesitated,  running  out  when  opportunity  al- 
lowed for  work,  but  none  came,  and  when  the  last  loaf 
had  disappeared,  and  gaunt  famine  stood  at  the  door, 
she  made  her  case  known.  u  Had  I  been  alone  my- 
self," she  added,  with  a  sudden  energy  that  startled 
me,  "  I  would  have  starved  sooner  than  ask  for 
help." 

"  We  have  been  very  poor  during  all  these  years,"  she 
went  on  to  say,  "  but  you  will  hardly  believe  me  when 
I  tell  you  that  my  chief  comfort  has  been  the  care  of 
these  twa  sick  ones  you  see  here..  While  they  remain 
with  me,  I  have  still  something  to  live  for,  and 
can  work,  no  matter  how  hard,  to  make  them  com- 
fortable. 1  shall  soon,  very  soon,  be  alone  in  the 
world,  but  if  I  could  only  go  with  them,  and  they  are 
quickly  going,  I  should  be  happy."  The  tone  in  which 
she  uttered  these  words  was  so  pitious  that  I  could  not 
bear  to  listen  longer.  It  had  in  it  the  despairing  wail 
of  a  soul  that  had  suffered  untold  agony. 

Her  manner  and  bearing  during  this  brief  recital 
had  in  them  so  strange  a  blending  of  pride,  dignity 
and  sweetness,  that  I  became  curious  to  know  the  his- 
tory of  the  family's  present  forlorn  condition,  fully 
assured  that  it  would  record  a  struggle  in  which  pride 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  191 


had  been  wounded,  but  not  conquered.  Her  story 
was  brief,  but  it  will  repay  repetition,  by  way  of  show- 
ing how  much  a  woman  of  weak  physical  constitution, 
nerved  by  an  unconquerable  pride  and  an  affection 
that  was  almost  sublime,  could  accomplish  unaided 
and  alone. 

The  wreck  of  the  family's  fortunes  had  been  going 
on  for  years.  It  commenced  with  the  failure  of  the 
husband  in  business  in  an  eastern  city,  and  in  which 
they  had  previously  lived  in  affluence.  The  children 
as  they  came  along  had  been  tenderly  nursed.  Two 
had  grown  up  to  womanhood,  and  then  faded  out  with 
the  malady  that  came  to  them  as  an  inheritance  from 
both  the  paternal  and  maternal  side.  When  the  war 
broke  out,  the  father,  having  nothing  else  to  do, 
enlisted  as  a  private,  in  the  vain  hope  that  promotion 
would  speedily  come,  and  with  it  the  means  of  sup- 
port for  himself  and  family.  In  less  than  a  year  he 
came  back,  broken  down  in  health.  He  had  never 
earned  a  penny  from  the  day  of  his  return.  For  two 
years  he  had  been  able  to  walk  but  a  short  distance 
from  the  house  in  which  he  now  was  soon  to  leave  for- 
ever. Disposing  of  such  little  luxuries  in  the  way  of 
furniture  and  books  as  were  still  left  them,  the  family 
removed  from  Providence  to  this  city,  took  a  suite  of 
rooms  in  an  up-town  tenement  house,  and  began  life 
anew.  The  mother  and  the  two  older  daughers  man- 
aged for  a  time  to  keep  up  a  decent  appearance  by 
working  day  and  nigbt  with  all  the  energy  of  despair, 
to  provide  the  means  of  making  the  younger  ones  pre- 
sentable at  school  and  at  church. 

They  met  fate,  these  three,  face  to  face,  and  would 
have  conquered,  but  the  health  of  the  daughters  gave 
way,  and  then  the  mother  had  no  alternative  but  to 


192 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


work  alone.  The  up-town  rooms  proved  too  expensive, 
and  the  room  in  which  I  was  sitting,  with  the  two 
smaller  ones  adjoining,  had  been  taken  as  a  last  resort, 
the  younger  children  taken  from  school,  every  trinket 
even  that  had  any  value  was  sold,  and  here,  in  these 
three  rooms,  a  family  of  seven  entrenched  itself,  and 
looked  poverty  squarely  in  the  face,  resolving  to  starve 
rather  than  beg.  Here  in  this  room  the  two  older 
daughters  had  died,  and  this  heroic  mother  had  not 
only  nursed  and  fed  them  with  her  own  hands,  but 
with  the  scanty  earnings  of  the  two  younger  children, 
added  to  her  own,  had  been  able  to  bury  them  de- 
cently when  they  left  her  for  a  home  where  it  is  to  be 
hoped  poverty  is  unknown. 

Two  boys  and  the  daughter  I  have  mentioned  re- 
mained to  her,  but  for  a  short  time  only.  Within  the 
year  following  the  death  of  the  sisters,  these  too  had 
gone  from  her  sight — four  within  two  years.  The 
grief  consequent  upon  such  a  loss  would  have  killed 
any  ordinary  woman  outright,  but  not  such  a  one  as 
this.  Shutting  up  in  her  benumbed,  but  heroic  heart, 
the  great,  unutterable  sorrow  that  was  too  sacred  to 
be  paraded  to  the  world,  she  presented  her  case  to  the 
Board  of  Health,  and  it  being  referred  to  my  friend, 
he  soon  put  them  in  charge  of  some  benevolent  people, 
the  Board  furnishing  such  medicines  for  the  two  sick 
ones  as  were  needed. 

Up  to  this  moment  I  had  been  so  absorbed  with  the 
scene  around  me,  the  story  of  this  proud  woman,  and 
the  manner  in  which  it  was  poured  out,  that  I  had 
passed  unnoticed  the  ravages  which  hunger,  suffering 
and  exhaustive  work  had  made  upon  the  one  who  had 
borne  the  burden  almost  alone.  Her  face  had  in  it 
still  the  traces  of  a  beauty  that  in  its  first  bloom  had 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


193 


been  such  as  is  rarely  met  with  at  any  age,  a  beauty 
which  even  the  now  pinched  features,  the  faded  eye 
and  the  shrunken  form  could  not  conceal.  It  was  that 
of  a  grand  soul  lighting  up  at  the  last  moment  a  worn- 
out,  nerveless  body. 

As  I  looked  at  her,  so  calm,  and  apparently  un- 
moved, in  the  very  midst  of  all  her  trials,  for  others 
were  still  in  store  for  her,  I  realized  for  the  first  time 
the  power  of  long-continued  illness  to  subdue  pride, 
and  soften  the  heart  and  bring  it  back  through  des- 
pondency to  the  helplessness  of  childhood.  She  had 
reached  that  condition  when  nerve,  hope  and  courage 
had  fled  and  left  her  almost  alone  with  her  poverty 
and  her  sorrow.  She  sat  there  a  perfect  picture  of 
Washington  Irving's  picture  of  Mrs.  Somers  returning 
from  the  grave  of  her  only  son.  Hers  was  a  grief  that 
the  rich  could  not  understand  and  were  powerless  to 
dissipate,  one  that  no  outward  appliance  could  soothe. 
It  had  reached  its  "  wintry  day,"  could  look  forward 
to  no  "  after-growth  of  joy,"  and  was  far  beyond  the 
power  of  consolation. 

As  we  rose  to  take  our  leave,  the  sufferer  in  the 
little  room  beyond  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  coughing, 
and  going  to  the  bedside,  I  raised  her  up  with  my  own 
hands,  and  supported  her  with  pillows.  This  over,  she 
sank  back  in  utter  exhaustion,  and  I  saw  that  a  sudden 
change  for  the  worse  had  taken  place.  From  this 
moment  she  began  to  sink  rapidly,  and  restoratives 
had  lost  their  power.  The  mother  gave  me  one  piteous, 
unearthly  look.  She  had  comprehended  all.  "  She 
is  going  with  the  others,  and  I  shall  soon  be  alone," 
was  all  she  uttered.  She  was  right.  There  was 
another  spasm  of  coughing,  a  nervous  clasping  of  the 
hands,  then  relaxation,  a  gasp  for  breath,  a  momentary 


191 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


shudder,  and  all  was  over.  The  last  of  the  children  for 
whom  she  had  wrung  out  her  life,  had  gone  from  her 
sight  forever. 

Fate,  and  a  cruel  one  it  was,  had  one  more  blow  in 
reserve  for  this  heroic  woman.  It  came  a  few  days 
afterwards  in  the  death  of  her  husband,  the  father  of 
her  children,  now  all  gone,  and  she  alone  in  the  wide, 
wide  world.  She  had  no  lack 'of  friends  now.  They 
came,  buried  the  dead  ones,  and  would  have  made 
the  mother  comfortable  for  all  time,  but  it  was  too 
late.  With  the  death  of  her  daughter  to  whom  she 
had  clung  with  an  affection  that  cannot  be  described 
in  words,  all  seemed  to  fade  away.  Nothing  was  now 
left  to  her  on  earth  that  was  worth  living  fur.  The 
blow  had  come  at  last,  she  had  long  anticipated  it, 
that  paralyzed  hope  even,  and  she  sank  rapidly  into  a 
settled  melancholy,  and  is  at  this  moment  an  inmate 
of  one  of  our  hospitals  for  the  insane. 

"We  have  told  a  simple  story,  and  without  the  slight- 
est exaggeration,  as  it  came  from  the  lips  of  the  prin- 
cipal actor  in  the  scenes  described,  and  we  have  but  a 
single  word  to  add,  and  it  is  this  :  How  is  it  possible 
to  compare  for  a  moment  such  suffering  as  this,  with 
that  found  in  thousands  of  houses  that  have  never 
known  a  comfort  or  a  luxury,  however  trifling  and 
we  repeat  what  we  have  so  often  intimated  in  these 
pages,  that  sorrow  such  as  this  has  claims  that  come  to 
us  from  no  other  source.  In  a  city  like  ours,  thousands 
of  such  cases,  where  unfortunate  ones  have  passed 
through  every  phase  down  the  sliding  scale  from  com- 
fort, luxury  even,  to  the  most  abject  poverty,  exist  at 
this  moment.  Of  course  they  are  rarely  discovered, 
never  until  driven  to  desperation.  They  hide  them- 
selves away  in  the  dark  places,  respectable  usually,  of 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


195 


our  city,  living  lives  of  the  most  forlorn  isolation,  pre- 
ferring anything  but  death,  and  they  sometimes  aecept 
that  rather  than  alms.  A  single  case  taken  at  random 
from  these  poor  creatures  who  fight  fate  while  life 
lasts,  with  nothing  save  their  own  hands  and  an  un- 
conquerable pride,  outweigh  a  thousand  of  those  in- 
stances in  which  poverty,  in  most  cases  extreme,  is 
accepted  without  a  struggle,  and  with  no  apparent 
sacrifice  of  pride  or  self-respect.  There  is  more  actual, 
poignant  suffering  experienced  in  one  family  such  as 
we  have  described,  than  in  ten  thousand  of  those  born 
to  the  manor  of  poverty,  and  who  throughout  a  life- 
time never  have  an  aspiration  above  the  present 
moment,  who  look  upon  the  future  as  something  with 
which  they  have  nought  to  do,  and  which  when  it 
comes  will  take  care  of  itself. 

The  problem  of  pauperism,  taken  with  reference  to 
all  its  phases,  and  they  cannot  be  enumerated  in  this 
chapter,  is  one  of  the  most  important  with  which  the 
country  will  have  to  deal  in  the  future.  It  is  only 
within  a  very  few  years  that  it  has  pressed  itself  for 
solution  outside  the  great  cities.  To-day  it  is  one  that 
affects  the  whole  nation.  In  this  great  overgrown  and 
overburdened  city  the  way  in  which  we  are  to  dispose 
of  it  in  future  is  a  matter  of  paramount  importance. 

There  is  no  municipality  in  the  world  so  over- 
freighted, literally  eaten  up  with  worthless  beggars,  as 
New  York.  They  prey  upon  us  in  swarms.  To  dis- 
criminate between  these  and  the  deserving  poor,  is 
impossible  at  a  glance,  and  without  special  inquiry 
into  the  cases  as  they  present  themselves,  and  to 
attempt  such  a  task  here  among  our  lazaroni,  would 
turn  us  out  of  our  counting-rooms  and  places  of 
business,  and  make  us  all  beggars  together. 


19G 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


The  people  of  the  rural  districts,  each  with  its  little 
handful  of  "  tramps  "  and  "  regulars,"  whine  piteously 
about  their  mendicant  burdens,  but  go  to  work  by 
counties,  purchase  farms,  erect  fine  buildings,  elect  a 
capable  or  incompetent  superintendent,  as  the  case 
may  be,  to  take  care  of  a  few  persons,  at  a  cost  alto- 
gether fabulous,  when  the  small  number  taken  care  of 
is  taken  into  the  account,  all  without  the  least  regard 
to  system  or  economy.  How  different  the  case  with 
us  when  in  proportion  to  population  and  resources  too, 
we  have  a  thousand  of  these  parasites  to  feed  to  their  one. 

One  of  these  days,  when  these  pauper  burdens 
become  still  more  oppressive,  we  shall  look  about  us 
to  discover  some  method  that  will  properly  distribute 
and  lighten  them  at  the  same  time.  When  we  open 
our  dull  eyes  to  the  fact,  as  we  shall,  and  quickly,  that 
our  prisons,  reformatories,  and  all  places  where  crimi- 
nals are  permanently  confined,  can  and  ought  always 
to  be  made  self-sustaining,  we  shall  have  settled  the 
criminal  side  of  the  question,  and  in  favor  of  the 
pockets  of  our  tax-payers.  The  question  as  to  paupers 
is  not  so  easy  of  solution.  A  large  proportion  of  these 
are  the  aged,  the  infirm,  the  sickly,  which,  together 
with  pauper  children,  are  unable  to  work,  and  must 
therefore  be  an  entire  charge.  What  is  needed  in  all 
directions,  is  system,  economy  of  management,  con- 
centration of  numbers  in  such  a  way  that  the  cost  of 
their  support  shall  be  reduced  to  the  very  lowest  figure 
consistent  with  their  comfort. 

When  we  can  bring  ourselves  down  from  the  dis- 
cussion of  theories  of  pauper  regulation  to  such  practi- 
cal methods  as  a  little  common  sense  would  suggest, 
if  we  would  permit  it  to  enter  our  heads,  the  able- 
bodied  beggars  that  now  beset  us  at  every  turn  with 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


197 


their  importunate,  impudent  appeals,  would  be  driven 
from  the  street  as  a  class,  and  compelled  to  earn  a 
decent  living ;  but  depend  upon  it,  so  long  as  we  pat 
them  on  the  head,  and  open  our  purses  to  them  in 
order  to  get  rid  of  them  for  a  day,  we  shall  have  them 
on  our  hands. 


CHAPTER  III. 


PROFESSIONAL  BEGGARS. 


A  professional  beggar,  by  which  we  mean  one  of 
that  class  of  mendicants  who  lives  to  beg,  is  a  crimi- 
nal, and  should  be  dealt  with  as  such.  Of  all  the  dis- 
agreeable social  facts  against  which  people  who  earn 
their  own  living  stumble,  the  professional  beggar  is 
the  meanest,  and  the  most  despicable.  Nothing  in- 
spires our  contempt  so  quickly  as  an  affectation  of 
want  on  the  part  of  an  able-bodied  man  or  woman. 
Poverty,  when  it  comes  to  us  haggard  and  forlorn, 
though  by  no  means  blameless  in  him  who  suffers  it, 
nevertheless  commands  sympathy,  and  usually  gets  it ; 
but  the  crouching,  cowardly,  hypocritical  beggar,  with 
brawny  arms  and  perfect  health,  holding  out  his  soft 
paw  for  a  coin,  rouses  in  him  who  stops  long  enough 
to  think,  nothing  but  loathing.  A  good  square  look 
at  one  of  these  creatures  at  your  door,  begets  an  im- 
pulse to  kick  him  into  the  street,  while  with  a  woman 
of  this  sort,  the  door  should  invariably  be  slammed  in 
her  face.  The  difficulty  is  in  distinguishing  the  real 
from  the  spurious  beggar.  Of  course  it  is  this  class 
that  is  everywhere  the  most  barefaced  and  yet  the 
most  forlorn  when  they  first  make  their,  appearance. 
They  look  up  at  you  with  half-closed  eyes,  and  an 
affectation  of  woe,  so  grim  and  absurd,  that  if  you 
had  your  choice  you  would  give  them  hunger  instead 
of  alms.  But  here  they  stand,  the  impudent  villains, 
hat  in  hand,  very  Uriah  Heeps  of  humbleness,  tears  in 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  199 

their  eyes,  a  simulated  all-goneness  in  their  puffed-out 
cheeks  and  trembling  limbs.  What  are  you  to  do 
with  so  hard  and  pitiable  a  fact  full  before  you,  but 
begin  to  fumble  in  your  pockets  for  the  coin  that  ie 
sure  to  creep  into  their  own  well-filled  bag,  or  into 
the  till  of  the  whisky-dealer  around  the  corner. 

The  shapes  in  which  the  professional  appears  to  you 
are  protean.  Sometimes  it  comes  in  mid-winter,  in 
the  guise  of  a  woman  with  the  baby  she  has  borrowed 
for  the  occasion.  This  is  the  fifth  she  has  starved  or 
frozen  during  the  season.  When  the  mercury  is  at 
zero,  she  is  in  her  element,  for  what  mortal  can  resist  a 
woman,  bareheaded,  half  naked,  a  baby  half  con- 
cealed under  a  dilapidated  strip  of  shawl  or  ragged 
water-proof,  crouching  at  your  feet  on  the  cold,  damp 
pavement  ?  Except  to  the  initiated,  the  thoroughly- 
posted  in  the  tricks  of  these  accomplished  mendicants, 
the  thing  is  impossible,  and  even  the  trained,  city-born 
New  Yorker,  requires  years  of  dogged  practice  to 
enable  him  to  pass  one  of  these  without  a  qualm  of 
conscience  that  makes  him  feel  himself  a  compound  of 
the  coward  and  criminal  for  'the  rest  of  the  day. 
Nevertheless  he  learns,  after  a  few  attacks,  to  get  by 
without  being  fleeced,  and  that  is  something,  though 
he  does  it  only  after  absolutely  torturing  himself  into 
the  full  belief  that  the  woman  is  not  only  an  arrant 
impostor,  but  that  she  is  an  infant-slayer  besides,  an 
imputation  that  is  somewhat  modified  when  he  dis- 
covers that  the  brat  is  made  of  wax,  as  was  found  to 
be  the  case  in  one  of  these  exhibitions  years  ago. 

The  fat,  sleek,  but  still  ior\orn-looki?ig— we  mean 
the  manner  of  his  looking — old  man,  whose  trembling 
fingers  have  pushed  under  your  nose  for  years  the  hat 
into  which  your  coins  have  been  regularly  dropped  as 


200  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

a  sop  to  your  benevolence,  sometimes  turns  up,  all  of  a 
sudden,  in  a  role  so  unexpected  and  amazing,  that  it 
knocks  all  jour  preconcerted  notions  of  charity,  duty 
and  piety  into  a  chaos  so  confused  and  bewildering, 
that  you  stand  awe-stricken  and  dumb  in  the  presence 
of  his  sublime  impudence.  The  following  incident 
illustrates  the  point  we  make: 

An  old,  and  we  will  add,  especially  kind-hearted 
gentleman  of  this  city,  whose  office  lias  been  in  Wall 
street  for  the  last  twenty  years  or  more,  had  been  in 
the  habit  for  years  of  dropping  a  coin  or  bit  of  cur- 
rency into  the  hand  of  one  of  the  blind  beggars  on 
Broadway,  near  Trinity  Church.  After  a  few  years, 
the  old  rascal  (we  mean  the  beggar)  moved  his  stand- 
ing-place into  Wall  street,  as  being  a  more  appropriate 
locality  to  his  improved  financial  condition.  Still  the 
coin  was  dropped  with  its  accustomed  regularity,  and 
scarcely  ever  without  a  resolve  that  some  time  or 
another,  when  opportunity  should  offer,  he  would  look 
into  the  condition  of  this  poor,  long-suffering  old  Bar- 
timeus.  The  kindly  old  gentleman  was  spared  the 
trouble  of  a  call,  the  old  beggar  himself  found  it  con- 
venient to  call  upon  the  lawyer  instead,  and  we  are 
happy  to  say  the  call  was  never  returned. 

One  morning  Bartimeus  dropped  out  of  his  accus- 
tomed haunt,  and  the  old  lawyer,  as  he  threw  off  his 
wraps  on  entering  his  office  on  a  very  cold  day,  con- 
cluded the  beggar  had  succumbed  to  the  weather  and 
renewed  in  his  tender  old  heart  his  former  resolve. 
About  12  o'clock  a  client  dropped  in  to  have  a  mort- 
gage drawn,  he  having  been  able  to  raise  a  matter  of 
$6,000  upon  a  piece  of  up  town  property.  The  man 
who  was  to  loan  it  to  him,  he  said,  would  be  in  with 
the  money  by  the  time  the  papers  were  ready  for  exe- 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


201 


cution.  Before  the  time  arrived,  a  middle-aged,  well- 
dressed  woman,  leading  a  blind  man,  entered  the 
office.  It  was  old  Bartimeus  himself,  washed  up,  ar- 
rayed in  a  black  suit,  hat  in  hand,  but  not  in  the  old 
fashion.  He  was  now  a  capitalist,  and  his  wife  pre- 
sented a  check  on  a  Bowery  Savings  institution  for  the 
whole  six  thousand,  took  in  return  the  mortgage,  and 
started  for  the  County  Clerk's  office  to  have  it  record- 
ed. She  had  been  there  before  as  the  sequel  showed. 
Turning  to  his  client,  after  the  twain  had  departed,  the 
old  lawyer  remarked,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  that 
would  have  tickled  Burton  himself,  had  he  been  there 
to  witness  it,  that  the  money  he  had  just  taken  from 
the  old  woman  was  furnished  in  part  by  himself,  but, 
he  added,  "  I  shall  not  trouble  you  to  give  your  note 
for  its  return,  the  old  beggar  will  settle  with  me." 
Our  tender-hearted  friend  does  not  find  it  difficult  to 
pass  one  of  these,  a  blind  one  even,  on  the  sidewalk, 
since  he  discovered,  as  he  did  soon  after  the  circum- 
stance we  have  detailed,  that  the  old  fellow  had  been 
loaning  small  sums  on  real  estate  for  many  years,  and 
that  he  was  actually  worth  at  that  moment  §20.000. 

The  rascal  disappeared  soon  after  from  Wall  street 
as  a  beggar,  but  we  are  not  certain  that  he  cannot  even 
now  be  found  "  on  'change,"  as  he  assuredly  would  be 
had  he  an  eye  left  to  guide  him  to  that  locality  so 
eminently  suited  to  his  genius  for  financial  swindling. 
So  much  for  professional  number  two. 

AVhat  is  most  astounding  in  all  this  business  is,  that 
we  £0  right  on  giving,  never  looking  for  a  moment  to 
the  right  or  left  to  discover  who  are  deserving  of  our 
gifts,  but  emptying  out  our  purses  into  the  greasy 
pockets  of  these  abominable  frauds,  for  such  they  are 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  just  to  get  rid  of  them  and 


202 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


satisfy  ourselves  that  we  have  done  something,  trifling 
tliough  it  be,  to  help  a  poor  soul  out  of  the  beggar's 
Slough  of  Despond.  What  we  have  actually  done  has 
been  to  take  from  the  really  unfortunate  and  deserving 
poor  the  amount  that  should  have  been  bestowed  upon 
them,  and  put  it  in  the  Savings  Bunk  to  the  credit  of 
an  old  fraud  like  the  one  we  have  cited.  To  give  in- 
telligently  to  a  street  beggar  is  out  of  the  question,  ex- 
cept- upon  an  actual  enquiry  into  his  circumstances. 
This  is  rarely,  if  ever  made,  and  hence  the  foolishly 
stupid  result. 

The  following  from  a  recent  issue  of  the  New  York 
Times  servos  to  illustrate  further  the  folly  of  this  hap- 
hazard charity  that  is  no  charity  after  all,  but,  on  the 
•contrary,  so  much  thrown  away  upon  a  class  who 
make  fraud  the  daily  business  of  a  life-time  : 

"  Lately  a  gentleman  was  accosted  by  an  active, 
rather  well-spoken  young  man  in  Union  Square.  In  a 
confidential  tone  he  detailed  his  sufferings,  and  con- 
cluded with  the  customary  whine,  '  If  you  could  but 
give  me  a  single  cent,  sir.'  A  ticket  was  tendered  him, 
entitling  him  to  the  good  offices  of  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  in  the  Bowery,  but  declined  with 
a  sarcastic  smile,  and  an  assurance  that  he  4  knew  Mr. 
Dooley,  the  Secretary,  very  well.'  Later,  in  the  dusk, 
the  same  gentleman  whom  this  scamp  had  addressed 
was  awaiting  a  car  by  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel.  '  If 
you  could  only  give  me  one  cent,'  came  in  familiar 
tones  on  his  ear.  '  Why,  I  offered  you  a  ticket  entit- 
ling you  to  food  only  two  hours  ago.'  '  Oh  !  I  beg 
your  pardon,  sir,'  and  the  fellow  slunk  off  to  some  one 
else." 

"  A  single  cent,"  nothing  more,  allowing  him  to  tell 
his  own  story,  wTas  what  this  full-chested,  brawny- 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


203 


armed  pauper  wanted.  It  requires  no  second  glance  at 
these  pauper-villains  to  determine  their  real  character, 
and  yet  we  go  on  year  after  year,  manufacturing  them 
by  the  hundred,  with  our  heedless,  reckless  alms- 
giving. This  man  stands  as  the  type  of  his  class,  and 
which  in  this  city  alone  number  at  least  ten  thousand 
persons.  Ten  thousand  able-bodied  men,  able  not  only 
to  earn  their  own  living,  but  of  contributing  toward 
the  general  wealth  of  the  nation.  What  are  they  but 
parisitic  criminals,  and  what  are  we  who  breed  them 
from  our  hard-earned  storehouses,  but  partakers  of 
their  crime  ?  Ah,  but  Charity  hides  a  multitude  of 
sins,  and  surely  there  is  no  city  in  the  world  so  splen- 
did in  its  almsgiving  as  New  York,  with  its  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  regularly  organized  charities.  True, 
very  true,  but  these  very  charities,  illustrating  as  they 
do  the  marvelous  generosity  of  a  magnanimous  peo- 
ple, are  the  very  institutions  that  help  to  foster  vaga- 
bondage by  their  bad  habit  of  sending  almoners  in 
search  of  somebody  to  feed  and  clothe.  In  many  cases 
there  is  a  constant  struggle  going  on  between  certain 
of  these  to  be  first  at  the  scene  of  disaster  or  want,  and 
so  to  be  able  to  make  a  good  showing  of  results  at  the 
end  of  the  year.  We  know  a  private  charity  in  this 
city,  owning  property  worth  $50,000,  paid  for  by  pri- 
vate contributions.  In  it  are  taken  care  of  yearly  an 
average  of  fifty  children.  It  costs  to  run  this  concern 
$15,000  annually,  or  $300  for  each  inmate,  and  the 
interest  on  the  investment  may  be  added  to  this  sum 
to  arrive  at  the  actual  cost.  Is  this  almsgiving  ?  It  is 
simply  and  emphatically,  luxury — nothing  else.  These 
children  are  better  cared  for  than  any  portion  of  the 
children  of  our  middle  classes.  This  is  humane  and 
generous ;  more  than  that,  it  is  wastefulness.  The 


204  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


point  we  make  is  that  it  cares  for  so  few  and  at  such 
great  cost.  But  then  it  is  a  private  charity,  and  those 
who  support  it  must  be  left  to  do  it  in  their  own  way. 

Take  another  case,  and  not  private,  a  clear  case  of 
wilful,  stupid  extravagance.  It  is  that  of  the  "  bum- 
mers" at  the  Station  Houses,  a  distinct,  isolated  array 
of  filthy,  able-bodied,  vermin-covered  lazaroni,  lodged 
every  night  at  the  expense  of  the  city. 

These  same  old  u  tramps"  of  both  sexes,  "  bummers" 
and  "  repeaters,"  present  themselves  at  one  or  another 
of  the  Station  Houses  of  the  city  every  night  of  the 
year,  with  the  regularity  and  precision  of  a  trained 
army  of  veterans,  which  indeed  they  are.  What 
shall  be  done  with  them  ?  Build  a  work-house  in  place 
of  the  large  lodging-house  already  erected  for  their 
accommodation,  and  then  when  they  come  shut  them 
up  in  it,  set  them  at  work,  earning  an  honest  living 
with  their  own  soft,  but  dirty  clutches.  These  are  the 
poor  upon  whom  there  should  be  no  sympathy  wrasted. 
Provide  the  means,  and  then  let  no  meal  be  served,  or 
lodging  furnished,  until  it  has  been  earned.  Such  a 
place  would  rid  the  city  of  one  half  of  the  present 
number  that  now  prey  upon  it  without  compunction. 

Mr.  Crapsey  tells  us  in  his  volume,  which  we  have 
already  mentioned,  that  140,000  lodgings  are  granted 
these  creatures  at  the  Station  Houses  in  a  single  year. 
A  waste  of  lodgings,  you  will  say,  and  with  truth,  and 
yet  the  poor  devils  get  the  worst  of  it,  for  the  same 
authority  tells  us  that  they  sleep,  if  sleep  comes  to 
them  at  all,  upon  bare  floors  in  unventilated  rooms, 
eack  employing  himself  in  relieving  his  body  of  ver- 
min at  the  expense  of  that  of  his  neighbor.  Forlorn, 
disgusting  picture  of  pauperism  and  beggary  combin 
ed,  a>id  yet  the  half  not  told.    To  rank  these  last  with 


t 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  205 

the  beggar  class,  though  technically  incorrect,  falls  not 
far  short,  after  all,  of  a  proper  classification.  At  best, 
they  are  a  vile  cross  between  the  confirmed  beggar 
and  regular  pauper,  without  approaching  in  dignity  to 
either,  and  we  gladly  relegate  them  to  the  tender  care 
of  our  "  City  Fathers,"  who,  together  with  our  rival 
charities,  seem  never  so  truly  happy  as  when  pouring 
oil  into  the  fancied  wounds  of  these  independent  pack- 
ages of  impudent  beggardom. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  begging  as  a  trade,  or 
business,  has  as  yet  gained  no  foothold  on  these  shores, 
and  that  this  class  is  confined  chiefly  to  the  cities  of 
Europe.    Such  is  not  the  case.    The  beggars  who  live 
and  thrive,  and  in  very  many  cases  die  rich,  and  who 
have  besides  managed  to  live  comfortably  through  a 
lifetime  of  beggary,  are  as  thickly  scattered  through 
our  large  cities  as  they  are  abroad.   The  truth  is,  there 
is  scarcely  a  vice,  or  any  phase  of  crime,  pauperism  or 
beggardom  known  in  Paris,  London  or  in  the  Papal 
States  and  old  Spain,  where  beggars  are  to  the  manor 
born,  that  has  not  its  counterpart  in  a  modified  form 
in  this  city.    We  are  as  a  people  wonderfully  apt  at 
imitation,  and  in  the  matter  of  professional  mendi- 
cancy, if  we  go  on  at  our  present  pace,  we  shall  sur- 
pass, in  proportion  to  population,  all  other  peoples. 
The  tricks  and  devices  practiced  by  these  beggar  free- 
booters are  ingenious  beyond  description.  The  toilets 
of  these  creatures,  especially  of  the  women,  are  a  study 
in  themselves.    The  most  tastefully  draped  woman 
among  us  could  take  lessons  with  profit  from  the  "  get 
up"  of  these  "artful  dodgers"  of  the  female  persua- 
sion.   Every  separate  rag  speaks  a  language  as  exact, 
though  not  so  poetic,  as  that  of  flowers.    What  is  the 
flirt  of  a  lady's  fan,  its  pungent  perfume  filling  the  air 


I 


206  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

with  visions  of  love  and  the  tropics  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, compared  with  the  artistic  grace  that  reposes 
upon  the  head  and  shoulders  of  this  beggar  queen,  her 
feet  in  the  gutter,  and  her  eves  turned  heavenward  as  if 
wrapped  in  holy  contemplation  instead  of  artistic  rags. 
It  is  said  that  Charlotte  Cushman  despaired  in  the 
make  up  of  her  costume  for  "  Meg.  Merriles  "  until 
she  seized  one  of  these  beggars  for  a  model,  and  as  a 
work  of  high  art  in  the  way  of  a  "  rig  "  that  of  the 
heroic  "  Meg  "  has  never  been  surpassed  save  by  the 
millionaire  mendicants  of  New  York.  Apropos  of 
rich  beggars,  what  we  have  stated  is  not  a  wide  ex- 
aggeration. There  are,  perhaps,  one  thousand  street 
beggars  in  this  city  at  this  moment,  who  have  plethoric 
bank  accounts,  and  live  in  comfortable  homes.  Their 
earnings  are  not  precarious,  but  can  be  counted  upon 
for  each  day  with  the  precision  of  a  legitimate  calling 
or  trade.  In  finesse,  deception,  and  that  consummate 
knowledge  of  the  weaknesses  of  givers,  which  is  the 
forte  of  this  class,  they  show  a  genius  that  is  absolute 
ly  amazing.  Every  shade  of  grief  or  woe,  known  to 
the  beggar's  repertoire,  is  simulated  with  a  tact  that 
Joe  Jefferson  might  emulate. 

The  more  accomplished  of  them  have  been  known 
to  steal  children,  and  starve  them  to  the  condition  of 
meagre  transparency  needful  for  successful  exhibition 
Of  course  the  more  harrowing  it  can  be  made,  the 
more  certain  it  is  to  pay,  for  there  is  no  object  on  earth 
that  will  turn  the  pocket  book  of  the  average  New 
Yorker  inside  out  so  quickly,  as  the  sight  of  a  baby 
that  has  the  appearance  of  having  been  boiled  in  a 
kettle  of  dirty  water  to  within  an  inch  of  its  existence, 
which  is  the  precise  point  at  which  the  infant  becomes 
a  rara  avis  in  the  way  of  a  beggar's  inventory. 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


207 


The  tricks  of  these  people  are  infinite  in  variety, 
and  betray  a  smartness  that,  exercised  in  Wall  street, 
would  command  the  highest  success. 

It  is  only  a  few  years  ago  that  a  lady  of  wealth, 
residing  in  Baltimore,  with  a  child,  a  daughter  of 
two  years,  arrived  in  this  city.  A  nurse,  long  em- 
ployed in  the  family,  accompanied  the  two.  The 
daughter  was  blind,  and  the  mother  had  been  urged 
by  her  family  physician  to  place  her  little  one  in  charge 
of  a  then  celebrated  occulist  of  this  city. 

They  arrived  in  the  early  morning  train,  and  took 
lodgings  at  a  hotel  on  Union  Square,  with  the  expec- 
tation of  finding  a  suitable  home  in  a  private  board- 
ing house  if  the  doctor  so  advised.  Meantime  the 
mother  took  a  carriage  for  the  doctor's,  leaving  the 
nurse  and  child  in  their  rooms  ac  the  hotel.  In  the 
mother's  absence,  as  was  quite  natural,  the  nurse  and 
charge  sauntered  into  the  public  parlors,  and  needing 
some  article  of  dress  of  the  child,  the  nurse  ran  to  her 
room,  leaving  the  latter  in  the  parlor,  though  only  for 
a  few  moments. 

On  her  return  the  child  was  missing,  and  all  at- 
tempts to  find  her  during  the  next  three  weeks  proved 
unavailing.  Months  passed  on,  and  the  parents  having 
abundant  means,  the  search  was  kept  up,  but  still 
without  success.  Light  at  last  broke  in  upon  tin's  sor- 
rowing family,  not  from  a  detective's  lantern,  but 
through  an  old  Quaker  preacher,  long  a  resident  of 
this  city,  and  distinguished  among  his  people  for 
shrewdness  as  well  as  piety,  and  who  furnished  the 
cue  that  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  child. 

Business  Xew  Yorkers  of  seven  or  eight  years  ago 
remember  well  the  old  "apple  woman"  who  sold  ap- 
ples and  sole  leather  pies  near  the  corner  where  the 


208 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


Herald  building  now  stands,  and  some  of  them  remem- 
ber a  forlorn  beggar  who  used  daily  to  crouch  near 
the  railing  at  the  corner  of  the  City  Hall  Park  oppo- 
site. This  old  German  hag,  for  such  she  was,  had 
always  in  her  arms  a  baby,  though  not  the  same  one. 
Being  the  "  mother  of  a  large  family,"  as  she  always 
piteously  whined  when  extending  her  muddy  paw  for 
alms,  she  was  not  limited  in  her  capital,  nnd  could 
now  and  then  afford  to  "switch  off"  on  a  new  infant 
prodigy  of  attenuated  proportions.  This  old  brute  had 
a  way  of  reducing  them  in  flesh  and  spirit  that  a 
strictly  moral,  or  even  slightly  civil  code  would  scarce- 
ly sanction  ;  at  all  events,  her  last  triumph  of  infant 
art  was  a  blind  one. 

The  good  Quaker  who  had  the  case  of  the  lost  child 
fresh  in  his  memory,  as  the  papers  of  the  day  had 
been  full  of  it,  got  his  observing  eye  on  the  old  wo- 
man on  his  way  down  town  one  morning,  about  six 
months  after  the  occurrence  described.  It  was  a  chilly 
December  day,  the  air  was  filled  with  flying  snow- 
flakes,  one  of  those  mornings  when  the  well-to-do  citi 
zen  wraps  his  fur  muffler  about  his  ears  with  comfort 
able  satisfaction,  as  he  hurries  along  to  his  place  of 
business. 

Crossing  Broadway  in  front  of  the  Astor  House 
Broadbrim  saw  the  baby,  its  eyes  turned  up  with 
an  expression  so  piteous  in  their  sightlessness,  that  he 
was  brought  to  a  sudden  halt  full  in  front  of  the  moth- 
er. A  single  look  satisfied  him  that  the  woman  was 
an  impostor,  and  that  the  baby  was  not  her  own,  but 
a  stolen  or  borrowed  one.  Going  up  to  the  old  hag, 
the  following  colloquy  occurred,  which  on  the  part  of 
the  Quaker,  meant  business. 

"  Good  woman,  is  this  thy  child?" 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


209 


"  Yes,  sir,"  in  the  meekest  of  voices,  and  with  eves 
upturned,  in  the  very  piteousness  of  despair. 
"  Where  does  thee  live  ?" 

"  In  Church  street,  sir,"  in  very  broken  English,  as 
she  began  to  smell  a  rat. 

"  Hast  thee  any  other  children  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  tears  freely  flowing,  "  I  have  a  large  fam- 
ily, sir,  and  this  one  you  see  is  blind,  sir." 

"  Will  thee  go  with  me  to  thy  house  ?  I  will  go 
with  thee  and  try  and  find  some  friends  to  help  tnee." 

"No  sir,  I  can't  go,"  with  sudden  but  suspicious 
energy  of  voice  and  manner,  there  was  no  whining  now. 
Passing  a  coin  into  her  hands,  the  good  preacher  took 
this  friendly  method  of  allaying  suspicion,  he  walked 
straight  to  the  nearest  station  house,  and  after  a  hasty 
consultation,  made  complaint  before  a  magistrate,  and 
had  the  woman  arrested. 

On  going  to  her  quarters  in  Baxter  street,  (she  did 
not  live  in  Church,  as  she  stated),  a  snug,  comfortable 
place  was  found,  which  was  her  home,  but  in  it  were 
no  other  children.  The  husband,  also  a  professional 
beggar,  was  home  for  the  day  sick,  but  very  com- 
fortable in  his  indisposition,  being  surrounded  with 
all  the  homelike  aj^pliances  that  make  invalidism  tol- 
erable. 

As  the  officers  entered,  the  old  monster  roused  him- 
self and  threatened  vengeance  for  so  unwarrantable, 
as  it  seemed  to  him,  intrusion  upon  his  premises,  and 
was  about  to  proceed  to  violent  measures,  when  he  and 
the  old  woman  were  hurried  off  to  quarters  not  quite 
so  snug  as  their  own,  but  much  more  in  keeping  with 
their  real  character.  The  child  meantime  was  given 
over  to  the  care  of  some  Sisters  of  Charity  in  Mulberry 
street,  and  its  supposed  parents  sent  for.  They  arrived 


210  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

on  the  following  morning,  and  at  once  recognized  the 
child  as  their  own. 

The  poor  creature  whose  misfortune  alone  should 
have  saved  it  from  ill  treatment  at  the  hands  of  any 
other  than  this  she  devil,  had  been  whipped  into  sub- 
mission, and  trained  to  the  life  of  a  beggar  by  starva- 
tion. The  meeting  between  the  parents  and  the  little 
one,  as  described  to  me  by  an  officer  who  witnessed 
it,  was  "  the  most  harrowing  scene  he  had  ever  wit- 
nessed." The  mother,  broken  down  in  nerve  at  last, 
by  months  of  weary  waiting  and  anguish,  such  as  only 
a  mother  could  feel,  went  into  an  agony  of  grief  at 
the  sight  of  the  lost  one,  that  refused  all  consolation. 
The  father's  grief  was  equally  touching,  but  with  him 
indignation  succeeded  the  mingled  feeling  of  joy  at 
finding  his  lost  one,  and  sorrow  for  its  suffering.  In 
the  absence  of  proof  other  than  circumstantial  that 
the  woman  had  stolen  the  child,  she  was  allowed  to 
go  unpunished,  having  sworn  positively  on  the  exam- 
ination that  she  found  the  child  in  the  street  alone  and 
unattended,  and  that  she  took  it  and  adopted  it  as  her 
own. 

This  is  but  one  of  hundreds  of  similar  cases  occur- 
ring every  year  in  our  city,  showing  that  the  bodies 
of  stolen  infants  even,  are  used  as  a  means  to  fill  the 
pockets  of  this  class  of  beggars. 

What  a  contrast  does  this  picture  present  to  that  of 
the  old  apple  woman  on  the  opposite  corner,  wrhom 
we  have  already  mentioned,  who  died  a  few  years 
since,  leaving  to  a  graceless  and  profligate  son,  a  snug 
little  fortune,  saved  from  daily  penny  and  six-penny 
sales  running  through  many  long  years. 

Such  are  some  of  the  many  contradictions  that  street 
life  in  our  city  hourly  presents,  and  which  seem  tor 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


211 


the  most  part  inseparable  from  a  population  in  which 
50,000  paupers  and  beggars  manage  to  live,  move  and 
have  their  existence. 

What  is  the  plain  moral  to  all  this  street  begging 
business  ?  In  our  judgment  it  is  this,  summed  up  in 
a  few  simple  propositions  derived  from  a  careful  sur- 
vey of  the  whole  field.  Ample  provision  being  made 
for  all  classes  of  the  deserving  poor,  as  well  as  thous- 
ands that  are  unworthy,  beggary  in  this  city  is  a  crime, 
and  should  be  treated  as  such.  Street  beggars  of  every 
class  should  be  driven  from  the  street,  under  penalty 
of  imprisonment,  and  thus  the  business  of  supporting 
vagabonds  be  stopped.  A  place  should  be  provided, 
say  at  Randall's  Island,  to  which  every  vagrant  should 
be  sent  for  classification.  The  able-bodied  should  be 
sent  to  a  work  house  prepared  for  the  purpose,  and 
those  unable  to  work  from  whatever  cause,  should  be 
cared  tor  at  the  expense  of  the  city,  if  not  looked  after 
by  our  private  charities,  of  which  we  shall  have  really 
more  than  we  need  for  our  pauper  population  when 
once  we  get  it  enrolled,  and  the  care  of  which  shall  be 
reduced  to  a  well-ordered,  efficient  system.  Let  it  be 
understood  that  every  able-bodied  beggar  or  pauper  is 
to  be  set  at  work,  and  kept  at  it  for  the  benefit  of  the 
city  until  he  shows  a  willingness  to  take  care  of  him- 
self, and  an  end  comes  at  once  to  street  begging  to 
begin  with,  and  there  is  no  greater  nuisance  that  con- 
fronts us  to-day  in  our  streets,  and  at  our  station 
houses  than  this.  We  don't  want  any  State  Board  of 
Charities  and  Corrections,  but  a  City  Board,  with 
powers  ample  enough  to  deal  with  every  individual 
case  of  pauperism,  consolidated  under  the  management 
of  this  Board,  and  which  being  vested  with  the  entire 
responsibility,  would  perforce  be  driven  to  do  the 


212 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


work  cheaper  and  better  than  any  divided  responsibil- 
ity could  possibly  do  it. 

The  besetting  sin  of  the  nation  to-day  is  its  tenden- 
cy to  do  things  by  halves,  its  one  great  overwhelming 
need  is  trained  men  in  all  directions,  whether  of  labor 
or  public  supervision,  and  public  administration.  Get 
once  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  and  those  of  its  great 
cities  conducted  upon  the  same  principle  that  an 
honest,  thoroughly  trained  business  man  conducts  his 
own  private  and  business  affairs,  and  we  should  be 
amazed  at  the  result.  Why  should  they  not  be  thus 
controlled  and  conducted  ?  Let  a  people,  careless,  in- 
different, reckless  even,  as  to  the  conduct  of  public 
affairs,  answer. 

We  talk  about  centralism,  as  though  it  was  a  bug- 
bear, and  if  by  centralism  is  meant  a  clutching  after 
power  on  the  part  of  thievish  rings,  anxious  only  about 
their  own  pockets,  longing  to  gorge  them  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  people,  it  is  a  bugbear,  and  should  be  so 
held  ;  but  in  our  judgment,  what  the  country  needs  in 
all  directions  local  and  general,  at  this  moment,  is  a 
little  wTholesome  consolidation  of  power  into  efficient 
and  honorable  hands.  We  have  allowed  thieves  to 
scatter  our  hard  earnings  long  enough,  let  us  now  try 
a  little  condensation.  Why,  indeed,  should  we  divide, 
in  this  city  for  example,  and  subdivide  the  work  of 
administration,  as  our  own  new  charter  has  done  it  for 
us,  until  there  is  no  responsibility  anywhere,  and  what 
is  worse,  a  municipal  government  that  is  not  even  the 
shadow  of  a  government,  a  stupid  sham,  a  heartless 
satire  upon  administration  of  any  sort  whatever. 

What  city  of  its  size  on  the  face  of  the  earth  can  be 
found  that  submits  as  meekly  as  do  the  people  of  this 
to  any  wrong,  however  flagrant  or  dastardly  which 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  213 


their  masters  inflict  upon  year  in  and  year  out.  No 
sheep  is  more  dumb  before  its  shearers  than  we  in  the 
presence  of  the  self-constituted,  ignorant  thieves,  that 
pluck  away  our  substance,  and  who  spend  it  in  riotous 
living. 

Our  public  and  private  charities  are  as  well,  perhapp 
more  faithfully  administered,  than  any  other  depart- 
ment of  our  municipal  service,  but  the  whole  business 
of  administration,  from  the  Board  of  Aldermen,  with 
the  Mayor  at  its  head — some  hint  that  he  is  at  the 
other  end,  under  the  present  charter— down  to  the 
making  of  the  pettiest  official,  needs  to  be  reformed, 
and  from  the  bottom. 

"We  are  set  down  as  the  Metropolis  of  the  Western 
world,  and  in  point  of  location,  numbers,  resources, 
wealth,  etc.,  we  are  such,  but  in  spite  of  ourselves, 
and  chiefly  because  of  our  favorable  situation.  In  the 
matter  of  government,  there  are  cities  of  one-twen- 
tieth of  our  population  infinitely  better  and  more  econ- 
omically governed  than  is  ours,  and  that,  too,  in  face 
of  the  fact  that  municipal  administration  is  every- 
where with  us  in  this  country  at  a  fearfully  low  ebb. 
"What  is  to  be  done  ?  Go  on  from  bad  to  worse  until 
the  last  municipal  ditch  is  reached,  or  make  a  bold 
push  for  something  better  ?  If  Manhattan  Island  is 
to  maintain  the  supremacy  long  allotted  it,  and  which 
for  a  century  and  a  half  was  the  pride  of  all  New 
Yorkers,  her  people  must  move  soon,  and  in  the  right 
direction.  The  route  to  a  more  efficient  and  a  more 
honest  administration  of  our  affairs  than  we  have  had 
for  years  is  open  to  us.  To  stay  where  we  are,  is  to 
allow  the  municipal  star  of  empire  to  take  its  way  to 
some  point  near  us.  It  has  already  commenced  to 
move.    Will  it  gravitate  back  to  its  old  place  at  our 


2U 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


beck  ?  if  it  will,  we  should  not  be  long  in  wooing  it 
with  every  appliance  known  to  gravitation.  A  muni- 
cipality, one-tenth  of  whose  population  is  annually 
under  arrest,  should  begin  seriously  to  build  more 
prisons,  work-houses  and  reformatories,  or  to  construct 
a  more  stable  government  for  those  who  may  come 
after  us. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHILD  VAGABONDS. 

The  burning  of  Moscow  in  the  days  of  the  elder 
Napoleon  has  been  supposed  to  be  the  greatest  street 
scene  ever  witnessed,  but  when  Victor  Hugo,  with  a 
pen  dipped  in  blood,  tells  us  that  the  fatal  insurrection 
of  June,  1848,  in  Paris,  was  far  grander,  the  reader 
pauses  for  a  moment  to  be  satisfied  of  the  truth  pre- 
sented by  the  contrast.  The  eye  of  the  great  novelist 
saw  nothing  save  the  great  moral  conflagration  that 
lay  far  down  at  the  bottom  of  that  marvelous  uprising, 
when,  in  one  short  hour,  the  whole  rabble  of  a  great 
city,  from  the  gamin  and  vagabond  of  the  slums,  to 
the  convict  at  the  galleys,  poured  itself  out  into  the 
streets,  and  demanded  a  hearing.  Magnificent  as  was 
the  scene,  considered  as  a  passionate  outburst  in  which 
poverty  and  rags  stood  defiant,  with  clenched  teeth, 
and  heart  on  fire,  demanding  bread,  it  was,  after  all, 
mournful  rather  than  splendid.  It  was  one  of  those 
struggles  in  which  the  very  dregs  of  society  are  thrown 
to  the  surface  by  one  sudden,  terrible  upheavel,  when 
reason  lay  prostrate  at  the  foot  of  passion,  and  when  a 
mad  rabble  shook  its  fists  in  the  very  faces  of  the  res- 
pectability it  hated. 

Such  uprisings  as  that,  however,  must  always  com- 
mand a  certain  respect,  for  the  world  was  not  created 
for  respectability  alone.  The  meanest  creature  on 
God's  footstool  has  a  right  to  live,  and  even  a  small 
mob  has  rights  which  an  entrenched  privileged  class  is 


216  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


forced  sometimes  to  regard  with  something  besides  in- 
difference. An  exasperated  multitude,  made  up  of 
those  who  have  nothing  to  loose  save  their  own  lives 
in  any  scene  of  violence  they  may  choose  to  inaugur- 
ate, may  be  subdued,  but  it  cannot  be  lashed  back  into 
its  lurking  places  without  a  feeling  that  society  rarely 
deals  justly  with  it,  and  that  the  ruler  is  as  often  at 
fault  as  the  rabble  itself,  so  that  he  who  stands  at  a 
safe  distance  contemplating  such  a  scene,  feels  a  thrill 
of  satisfaction  when  power  and  privilege  combined 
conquers  all  that  dares  confront  it,  but  feels  at  the 
same  moment  a  desire  to  excuse  and  paliate  the  wrongs 
that  power  refuses  to  make  right. 

But  as  we  have  said  even  brute  force  cannot  always 
safely  be  ignored,  for  once  set  going,  and  inflamed  by 
passion,  its  violence  knows  no  bounds. 

Often  during  the  late  wTar,  as  we  threaded  the  slums 
of  the  city  at  dead  of  night  after  the  riots  of  '63,  the 
thought  has  come  to  us  unbidden,  how  powerless  we 
should  be  under  our  defective  municipal  administra- 
tion, in  the  hands  of  such  a  mob  as  that  which  bathed 
the  streets  of  Paris  in  blood  in  the  ever  memorable 
struggle  of  '48.  Imagine  a  social  earthquake  that 
should  shake  from  their  hiding  places  into  the  streets 
the  vast  army  of  criminals  and  vagabonds  of  every 
grade  that  infest  this  great,  overgrown  city.  What 
scenes  of  pillage,  of  fire,  of  murder,  could  be  enacted 
iu  a  city  governed  like  this  before  a  blow  could  be 
struck  for  life,  law,  or  order.  "With  the  fingers  of  a 
rabble  of  100,000  at  our  throats,  we  would  present  a 
spectacle  of  municipal  weakness  that  would  be  pitiable 
in  the  extreme.  The  thought  is  not  an  idle  one,  as 
the  experience  of  the  draft  riots  abundantly  demon- 
strated, but  one  likely  to  occur  at  any  moment  of  a 


The    Gamins   of  New  2"ork, 


Beggars  and  Paupers, 


217 


great  uprising  of  our  people,  from  any  cause  what- 
ever. 

What  a  motly  crowd  would  that  be  that  should 
clamber  into  the  street  from  the  reeking  basement  and 
garret,  and  the  thousands  of  low  drinking  places  and 
other  vile  slums  that  make  our  city  an  earthly  hell  of 
the  worst  description  every  night  from  sunset  until 
dawn. 

Conspicuous  in  this  crowd  would  loom  up  the  15,000 
child  vagrants,  beggars  and  vagabonds,  that  are  the 
social  heritage  of  New  York,  a  sad  sorrowful  horde  of 
castaways,  that  come  floating  up  from  the  great  ocean 
of  beggardom  and  crime  that  beats  against  the  shores 
of  this  beggar-besieged  island.  Ten  thousand  child 
vagabonds  alone,  most  of  whom  we  are  educating  to 
figure  in  catalogues  of  crime,  of  crime  that  we  shall 
doubtless  go  on  manufacturing  year  after  year  under 
our  loose  notions  of  the  manner  in  which  a  vagrant 
and  criminal  army  of  idlers  should  be  disposed  of. 
We  have  hinted  at  the  peril  constantly  impending  over 
a  city  that  contains  witiiin  it  the  possibilities  for  mis- 
chief pent  up  in  a  twentieth  of  a  million  of  lives 
blighted  at  their  birth,  one-fifth  of  which  are  children 
under  fifteen  years. 

The  problem  presented  by  these  simple  figures  is 
not  so  difficult  of  solution  as  we  are  in  the  habit  of 
supposing,  and  there  is  no  one  social  question  that  de- 
serves such  immediate,  practical  consideration  as  that 
which  involves  the  care  of  these  fifteen  thousand 
waifs. 

To  those  of  us  who  look  upon  children  as  something 
better  than  an  inevitable  burden,  and  who  do  not  believe 
that  the  human  animal  must  be  left  to  run  the  same 
chance  for  existence  that  confronts  at  birth  the  lowei 


21S  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

of  God's  creatures,  no  sight  is  more  sad,  no  condition 
more  deplorable,  than  that  which  presents  a  child  with 
all  its  capacities  for  enjoyment  and  affection,  a  wan- 
derer  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  There  is  nothing  so 
helpless  as  the  helplessness  of  childhood,  a  fact  that  has 
never  yet  been  given  its  true  weight  in  the  case,  or 
want  of  it,  which  we  are  supposed  to  bestow  even  upon 
our  own  children,  to  say  nothing  of  the  duties  which 
the  State  owes  to  the  waifs  that  idleness,  dissipation, 
and  crime  leave  to  its  care. 

For  some  inscrutable  reason,  perhaps  because  en- 
dowed with  superior  reason,  the  babe  that  humanity 
undertakes  to  rear,  remains  in  this  utterly  supine  and 
helpless  condition  longer  than  the  young  of  any  of 
the  lower  animals,  the  most  of  which  experience  a 
period  of  pupilage  so  short  they  can  scarce  be  called 
pupils  at  all. 

It  is  for  this,  among  other  reasons,  that  childhood 
appeals  so  strongly  to  all  that  is  humane  and  tender 
within  us  for  care  and  support,  through  this  most  try- 
ing period,  and  there  is  no  single  human  quality  so  in- 
human and  dispicable,  as  that  which  permits  father  or 
mother  to  abandon,  without  a  pang,  a  family  of  young 
children  to  the  care  of  a  cruel  world.  Barring  a  few 
honorable  exceptions,  made  possible  through  the  influ- 
ence of  our  private  and  public  charities  too,  no  life  is 
more  utterly  sunless  than  that  led  by  the  juvenile  vag- 
abonds of  a  city  like  this. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  between  the  Battery  and  the 
northern  outlet  of  Central  Park,  six  thousand  children 
can  be  found  at  this  moment  who  have  never  known 
the  luxury  of  a  home  that  contained  a  comfort,  or  a 
soul  to  care  for  them  ;  a  homeless,  motherless,  half-nak- 
ed, half-starved  crowd  of  girls  and  gamins,  into  whose 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


219 


benighted  lives  no  ray  of  the  sunshine  that  warms  a 
true  mother's  heart  has  ever  penetrated.  Many  of 
these  are  scarcely  out  of  their  boyhood,  little  human 
packages  of  filth,  impudence,  and  grim  independence, 
standing  at  the  crossings,  the  depots,  the  places  of 
amusement,  everywhere.  They  burrow  in  holes  under 
ground  that  have  never  been  lighted  by  a  ray  of  sun- 
light or  warmed  by  aught  save  a  stray  handful  of  coals 
filched  from  the  ash  barrels  of  the  slums.  Strangers 
to  pure  air,  except  when  tramping  over  the  better  por- 
tions of  the  city,  they  come  out  of  their  hiding  places 
each  morning  more  dead  than  alive.  The  great  bulk 
of  these  sleep  in  summer  in  the  streets,  or  what  is  the 
same,  in  open  areas,  under  the  docks,  or  on  bales  of 
cotton,  any  out-of-the-way  place  in  short,  that  will 
open  to  them  its  dirty,  chilling,  health-destroying  hospi- 
tality. The  sufferings  of  these  little  waifs  during  our 
cold  northern  winters,  have  never  yet  been  realized  by 
any  save  those  who  are  compelled  to  witness 
them.  Could  the  half  be  known  it  wTould  unfold  a  tale 
of  criminal  public  negligence  that  we  should  be  asham- 
ed of.  What  a  social  picture  wTould  that  be,  that 
should  present  in  just  contrast  the  home  of  the  Fifth 
Avenue  millionaire,  with  the  dark  caverns  in  which 
these  little  wanderers  curl  up  for  the  night.  Where 
lives  the  Hogarth  of  the  day  who  can  paint,  in  broad 
touches,  the  deep  pathos  as  well  as  grim  humor  that 
lies  wrapped  up  in  this  beggarly  little  crowd  ?  Talk 
about  Borrioboola-Gha,  and  the  heathen  of  Timbuctoo, 
with  these  poor,  depraved,  and,  when  considered  with 
reference  to  their  responsibility,  almost  sinless  army 
of  vagrants  that  we,  ourselves,  are  educating  for  places 
in  our  workhouses,  almshouses  and  prisons.  Ten  thou- 
sand children  clad  in  rags  and  filth,  not  of  their  own 


220 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


seeking,  but  in  hereditary  rags  and  filth,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  moral  degredation  that  is  an  inseparable  and 
even  present  adjunct  of  their  dreary  lives.  We  make 
no  appeal  in  this  chapter  for  adult  crime,  criminals,  or 
vagrants,  for  the  bulk  of  these  must  be  held  responsi- 
ble in  part,  at  least,  for  their  miserable  condition. 
These  have  knowledge,  experience,  volition  to  guide 
them  through  life's  labyrinth.  It  is  for  the  children 
we  write,  the  little  gamins  and  waifs  that  struggle  into 
life,  and  struggle  through  and  out  of  it  at  last,  without 
feeling  in  all  the  long  dreary  march  the  touch  of  a 
tender  hand,  or  once  listening  to  the  music  of  a  kindly 
voice. 

"  It  is  the  eye  of  childhood,"  says  Lady  Macbeth, 
"  that  fears  a  painted  devil."  That  good-natured  and 
eminently  humane  murderer  of  a  kindly  old  king, 
might  have  added  that  childhood,  when  left  to  itself 
even,  sometimes  developes  a  power  of  resistance  to  the 
real  devil  when  he  comes,  that  this  embodiment  of 
cruelty  never  knew. 

Scenes  are  transpiring  daily  and  nightly  in  which 
these  homeless  ones  are  actors,  that  turn  low  life  into 
a  romance  of  the  most  absorbing  interest,  and  it  is  a 
fact  creditable  to  the  humanity  of  some  of  the  later 
novelists  and  dramatists,  that  poverty-stricken,  and 
criminal  childhood,  is  often  the  central  figure  of  a 
story  that  reaches  all  hearts  at  a  bound  through  the 
common  interest  and  affection  that  extreme  youth  and 
happiness  must  always  command.  Oliver  Twist,  the 
work-house  in  which  he  first  saw  the  light,  and  little 
Nell,  will  live  while  a  tongue  survives  in  which  can  be 
repeated  the  simple,  touching  story  of  their  lives,  as 
Dickens  told  it.  Whatever  the  faults  of  the  great  no- 
velist, the  man  who  invested  outcast  childhood  with  a 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


221 


dignity  and  sweetness  never  given  to  it  before  in  ro- 
mance, will  be  forever  remembered  in  the  pictures  of 
innocence  that  his  genius  has  rendered  immortal. 

Many  of  these  children  are  driven  into  the  street 
daily  to  beg  the  money  that  goes  to  support  their 
drunken  fathers  and  mothers  in  idleness.  At  night, 
after  spending  the  whole  day  at  crossings,  or  wherever 
they  may  be  allowed  to  ply  their  trade,  they  hobble 
home,  if  in  winter,  often  without  shoes,  and  go 
supperless  to  their  bed  of  straw  in  the  corner,  while 
the  parents  gorge  themselves  with  the  meal  that  the 
day's  work  of  the  children  furnish.  Thus  in  thousands 
of  basements  and  garrets,  where  poverty  and  beastli- 
ness huddle  together,  is  nature's  order  reversed,  chil- 
dren of  tender  years  taking  the  place  of  parents,  with 
no  return  for  their  labor,  save  the  crust  that  supplies 
them  with  the  strength  required  for  the  ever  coming 
day's  trial.  Incredible  though  as  it  may  seem,  it  may 
be  set  down  as  true,  that  hundreds  of  these  children 
die  every  year,  if  not  of  starvation  outright,  of  the  dis- 
eases engendered  by  want  of  food  and  warmth  com- 
bined. Ghastly  are  the  pictures  of  want  and  suffering, 
but  the  figures  in  it  are  the  waifs  that  knock  at  our  own 
doors.  At  every  season,  however  inclement,  the  street 
is  their  only,  and,  in  reality,  their  best  home,  for  when 
in  it  they  escape  the  cruel  treatment  that  usually 
greets  them  when  the  kennel  they  call  home  is 
reached. 

In  summer  they  are  found  under  the  stoops,  on  the 
docks,  the  rats  of  which  are  better  fed  than  they,  and 
as  well  housed.  The  first  warm  breath  of  spring  conn  s 
to  them  emphatically  with  healing  in  its  wings,  for 
how  much  more  comfortable  is  the  back  of  a  market- 
cart  in  summer,  with  pure  air  to  breathe,  for  a  bed- 


222 


Beggars  and  Paujpen 


room,  than  the  foul  holes  in  which  they  are  compelled 
to  burrow  in  winter  to  keep  from  freezing.  In  mid- 
winter, when  the  oily-tongued  "professional"  holds 
out  his  fat  palm  for  a  coin,  at  our  doors,  these  little 
vagrants  of  both  sexes  come  shivering  along,  their 
bare  feet  pressing  daintily  the  winter  snow,  or  icy 
pavement,  modestly  asking,  not  for  money,  but  a  crust 
to  keep  body  and  soul  together.  When  given  them,  as 
it  usually  is,  for  New  Yorkers  know  full  well  that 
these  little  parasites  are  not  frauds  but  pitiable  realities, 
their  little  white  teeth  tear  it  to  pieces  with  a  kind  of 
savage  defiance,  as  though  they  knew  well  the  fact 
that  a  cruel  fate  had  pushed  them  into  life  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  making  it  one  of  torture. 

To  the  credit  of  some  of  our  organized  charities 
must  be  given  the  rescue  of  many  of  these  from  the  life 
to  which  they  have  been  reared.  In  very  many  cases, 
good  homes  have  been  provided  outside  of  the  city  by 
Mr.  Brace,  of  the  Children's  Aid  Society,  but  more  has 
been  done  by  the  Howard  Mission,  and  the  various 
Catholic  Charities  of  the  city,  by  way  of  relieving 
actual  distress  and  suffering.  If  what  is  done  in  behalf 
of  these  children,  could  be  done  without  rivalry  or 
jealousy,  and  under  a  system  that  would  bring  each  to 
bear  harmoniously  upon  the  end  desired,  even  this  most 
pitiable  class  could  be  taken  from  our  doors  and  from 
the  street;  but  the  truth  is  that  no  such  system,  having 
a  care  for  the  future  welfare  of  these  waifs,  has  yet 
been  got  into  effective  working  order. 

Of  course  it  is  impossible  to  find  good  homes  for  ail 
the  boys  and  girls  that  are  sent  out  by  the  Aid  Soci- 
ety, but  it  is  equally  certain  that  they  are  often  passed 
over  into  the  hands  of  persons  where  the  most  cruel 
treatment  is  certain  to  be  -the  result,  and  where  the 


Beggars  and  Paupers 

characters  of  those  who  take  is  known  to  be  had  by 
the  careless  agents  who  make  the  transfers.  Xever- 
theless  much  lias  been  done  by  Mr.  Brace,  and  the 
noble  society  under  his  care,  to  relieve  the  city  of  this 
rapidly  growing  evil.  A  work  of  such  magnitude, 
however,  cannot  fairly  be  entrusted  to  a  single  asso- 
ciation, limited  in  means  and  resources,  with  the  ex- 
pectation that  it  can  be  well  done.  The  truth  is  it  can 
at  best  only  be  approached  or  experimented  upon 
under  such  conditions,  bnt  sooner  or  later  this  great 
work,  for  such  it  will  prove  to  be,  will  have  to  be 
wrought ;  when  we  have  done  it  systematically,  and 
shall  find  that  it  costs  less  to  do  the  whole  in  that  way 
than  a  fraction  of  it  at  random,  and  without  special 
care  as  to  the  results,  we  shall  wonder  why  we  have 
been  so  stupid  as  not  to  have  cleaned  out  this  augean 
stable  before. 

"What  with  our  money-getting,  our  private  enter- 
prises, our  mad  run  in  all  directions  for  our  own  ad- 
vancement, we  have  not  yet  stopped  long  enough  to 
take  breath,  and  to  see  what  lies  wrapped  up  for  good 
in  these  pauper  beggar  thousands  of  all  classes  that 
swarm  around  us.  Hitherto  the  moral,  or  economical 
side  of  this  mixed  problem,  has  not  yet  had  any  earn- 
est, practical  consideration. 

It  is  difficult  to  trace  the  real  character  and  animus 
of  our  civilization  through  such  a  labrynth  of  moral 
filth  as  winds  its  foul  way  through  the  dark  places  of 
Kew  York,  but  it  may  safely  be  said  that  no  portion 
of  it  presents  so  strong  an  indictment  against  our  hu- 
manity, and  our  Christianity  as  well,  as  that  which 
reveals  our  indifference  to  the  wants  and  needs  of  these 
children  who  come  to  us  as  insects  are  bred  from  filth. 
They  move  about  us  a  living,  perpetual  impugnment 


003 


224  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


of  our  boasted  superiority  as  a  people.  So  long  as  it 
is  considered  no  crime,  beastly  parents  will  be  found 
in  abundance  who  will  drive  their  children  into  the 
streets  as  beggars  and  thieves.  Any  policeman  will 
tell  you  that  the  mother,  and  the  father  too,  will  some- 
times follow  a  child  all  day  long,  in  order  to  see  that 
the  time  has  been  well  put  in,  and  that  it  is  no  un- 
common thing  for  these  parent  brutes  to  be  found 
mauling  and  kicking  the  poor  little  slaves — they  are 
nothing  else — whose  footsteps  they  have  dogged. 
Stripped  of  shoes  and  all  else  in  the  way  of  clothing, 
to  make  their  destitution  more  apparent  and  more  at- 
tractive in  its  piteousness,  they  sally  out  each  morning, 
rain  or  shine,  often  bearing  with  them  the  marks  of 
personal  violence,  added  to  those  that  show  the  steady 
progress  of  the  diseases  that  come  from  exposure  and 
want  of  food. 

We  recall  now  a  case  of  a  family  of  seven  children, 
five  of  whom  worked  in  a  Yorkville  factory.  The 
home  of  these  children  was  in  Catharine  street,  and 
not  only  were  all  compelled  to  walk  both  ways  to  their 
work,  a  distance  of  eight  miles  or  more,  but  the  father, 
a  brute  unfit  to  live  anywhere,  would  not  allow  them 
to  take  a  crust  even  to  their  work.  The  meal,  if  such 
it  could  be  called  that  was  only  a  mockery  of  it,  which 
they  were  allowed  to  take  at  a  very  early  hour  in  the 
morning,  served  them  until  their  return  at  night,  when 
a  similar  one  was  afforded  them.  The  case  was  brought 
to  the  notice  of  the  public  through  the  death  of  the 
youngest  of  the  children  mentioned,  the  people  of  the 
neighborhood  affirming  that  the  boy  died  of  starvation 
and  cruelty.  The  brute-father  and  mother — both  were 
habitual  drunkards — were  arrested,  and  the  evidence 
on  examination  showed  that  the  most  inhuman  cruel* 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


225 


ties  had  been  added  to  that  of  starvation.  A  part  of 
this  went  to  show  that  for  months  these  children, 
though  walking  eight  miles  each  day,  and  performing 
ten  hours  of  labor,  had  subsisted  on  two  meals  of  boil- 
ed beans  and  bread,  and  that  in  quantities  insufficient 
for  their  sustenance.  We  saw  all  of  them,  and  heard 
the  testimony  on  the  trial,  and  a  sadder  sight  we  have 
never  witnessed.  Not  one  of  them  could  be  brought 
to  testify  until  assured  that  the  brutes,  who  appropri- 
ated their  earnings  for  rum,  would  not  be  allowed  to 
beat  them  for  telling  the  truth.  And  yet  these  people 
were  allowed  to  go  with  a  reprimand,  there  being  no 
law  to  meet  the  case.  We  cite  this  case  to  show  that 
child  beggars,  and  other  outcast  children,  are  not  the 
only  child-sufferers  among  us,  and  that  there  are  cases, 
unfortunately,  in  which  a  brace  of  brutes  like  these  go 
un whipped  of  justice  all  through  a  long  life.  If  the 
punishment  we  are  all  taught  to  believe  in,  in  the 
future,  as  a  penalty  for  past  misdeeds,  shall  prove  to 
be  one  of  grades,  to  what  profound  depths  of  it  will 
these  two  be  consigned.  The  sight  of  a  mother  inflict- 
ing unjust  punishment  through  anger  alone,  is  suffi- 
cient to  rouse  the  indignation  of  those  who  witness  it, 
yet  here  in  this  city  are  thousands  of  mothers  and 
fathers,  wTho  not  only  inflict  cruel  personal  tortures 
upon  their  innocent,  helpless  children,  but  who  repay 
the  support  they  receive  from  their  baby  fingers  with 
a  brutal  refusal  to  supply  them  with  enough  of  the  food 
their  own  child-hands  have  earned  to  keep  them  from 
starvation,  and  all  this  excites  no  ripple  of  indignation 
or  pity  even,  save  when  by  accident  some  case  charged 
with  special  cruelty  comes  to  light. 

The  law  is  alike  stupid  and  careless  in  its  dealings 
with  child  criminals  themselves,  and  with  which  the 


£20 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


city  is  infested.  "What  else  indeed  could  be  expected 
from  a  community  that  is  itself  guilty  of  criminal  neg- 
ligence in  its  want  of  care  of  these  incipients  in  crime, 
and  which  has  not  yet  been  found  willing  to  furnish 
even  the  ounce  of  prevention  that  would  in  this  direc- 
tion, were  it  used,  work  out  many  pounds  of  cure. 

Many  of  these,  mostly  boys,  spend  years  of  their 
lives  in  jail  as  a  penalty  for  petty  crimes,  committed 
in  a  large  number  of  cases  before  they  are  old  enough 
to  understand  the  nature  of  the  act  of  which  they  have 
been  found  guilty.  The  brute  of  a  magistrate,  some 
ward  politician,  perhaps,  will  bully  and  terrorize  the 
trembling  little  wretch  into  a  confession  of  his  crime, 
and  then  "  send  him  up "  with  the  remark  that  he 
ought  to  be  hung,  and  will  be,  if  he  don't  behave  him- 
self better  in  future.  The  truth  is,  these  child  delin- 
quents should  never  be  sent  to  prisons  in  which  they 
come  in  close  and  immediate  contact  with  older  and 
confirmed  criminals.  To  send  such  as  these  to  a  cell 
in  the  Tombs  for  example,  is  to  render  their  salvation 
from  crime  almost  impossible.  Even  our  state  houses 
of  refuge,  and  reform  schools,  in  which  the  penal  sys- 
tem is  still  recognized,  are  bad  enough,  for  the  reason 
that  the  influences  that  surround  them  there,  are  not 
such  as  to  make  them  forget  that  they  are  crim- 
inals. 

Elsewhere  in  several  other  states,  the  plan  of  taking 
care  of  this  class  of  delinquents  on  the  family  plan, 
and  banishing  the  prison  idea  altogether,  is  working 
admirably,  and  producing  the  most  happy  results,  and 
all  in  proof  of  the  theory  that  not  only  are  a  soul, 
brain,  and  a  pair  of  hands  saved  to  the  State  in  every 
single  instance  of  a  reform  by  such  means,  but  that  the 
State  itself  has  not  performed  its  whole  duty  to  each 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  227 

of  fhese,  until  such  a  way  of  escape  from  an  otherwise 
certain  moral  death  has  been  provided. 

The  last  and  the  present  year,  thus  far,  have  been 
prolific  of  this  class  of  youthful  criminals.  The  bad 
times,  the  sudden  stoppage  of  enterprises  in  all  direc- 
tions that  formerly  employed  vast  numbers  of  adult 
and  juvenile  laborers,  has  driven  a  small  army  into 
our  streets,  in  addition  to  the  indigenous  crowd  that 
they  meet,  as  they  still  come  pouring  in  from  the  out- 
lying suburbs. 

Hundreds  of  runaways  from  comfortable  farm- 
houses, or  from  the  low  life  of  villages  and  cities,  find 
their  way  hither,  prompted  by  the  dream  that  money 
and  amusements  will  be  theirs  for  all  time,  and  with 
far  less  labor  than  either  can  be  acquired  in  the  hum- 
drum homes  they  have  left  behind  them. 

A  few  days,  in  which  homesickness,  repentance,  and 
bitter  disappointment,  come  as  dread,  but  palpable  re- 
alities, are  quite  sufficient  to  showT  them  what  a  great 
solitude  New  York  is.  To  a  stranger,  who  visits  it  for 
the  first  time  with  plenty  of  money  in  his  purse  even, 
it  is  dreary  enough  if  he  have  no  companion  into 
whose  ear  he  can  pour  his  thoughts  of  the  dream  so 
long  unrealized,  the  full  realization  of  which  often 
proves  an  experience  productive  of  the  most  barren 
results,  while  to  the  youthful  stranger,  without  money 
or  friends,  guided  hither  solely  by  a  love  of  adventure, 
no  spot  on  earth  can  be  found  so  utterly  lonely  in  its 
mad  whirl,  as  Broadway  itself.  However  attractive 
to  the  eye,  superficially,  let  him  who  is  silly  enough  t<> 
believe  that  a  great  city  is  ready  at  any  moment  to 
stand  godfather  to  every  new  comer  in  search  of  a  for- 
tune or  a  home,  try  the  experiment,  and  he  will  find 
to  his  cost  that  there  is  no  isolation  so  utterly  without 


228  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

sympathy,  as  that  which  meets  the  entire  stranger  in 
the  streets  of  a  great  city.  Amidst  a  thousand  evi- 
dences of  friction  and  apparent  elbowing  that  bewilder 
the  eye  of  the  uninitiated,  he  finds  no  point  of  contact, 
he  is  held  at  a  distance  that  seems  immeasurable.  In 
all  this  fearful  hub-bub  of  moving  vehicles,  and  mil- 
lions of  people,  he  is  an  atom  in  whom  no  one  around 
him  has  the  slightest  interest,  a  little  unseen  speck, 
borne  along  by  a  human  current  that  cares  as  little 
about  him  as  if  he  were  the  man  in  the  moon.  The 
youthful  stranger  in  our  metropolis,  who  makes  his 
way  without  money  or  friends,  must  be  set  down 
among  the  lucky  or  plucky  ones,  but  where  one  of  this 
class  succeeds  hundreds  go  hopelessly  under,  and  never 
come  to  the  surface  save  as  criminals,  beggars,  or 
paupers.  Once  fairly  in  the  slough,  courage  or  ambi- 
tion, if  they  have  either,  ooze  out,  and  when  help 
comes,  if  it  comes  at  all,  it  finds  them  given  over  to 
irresolution,  and  what  is  worse,  to  an  almost  entire  in- 
difference to  their  future.  It  is  a  noticeable  circum- 
stance connected  with  the  fate  of  these,  that  when  once 
thoroughly  demoralized  by  bad  associations  and  want 
of  success,  the  work  of  redemption  is  one  of  more  diffi- 
culty than  that  which  has  for  its  object  the  care  of 
those  children  who  have  been  born,  cradled  and  raised 
among  criminals. 

Mr.  Charles  L.  Brace,  a  gentleman  fully  qualified  to 
speak  intelligently  from  an  extended  and  varied  ex- 
perience among  juvenile  delinquents  of  every  class,  is 
credited  with  the  remark  that  juvenile  vagrancy 
springs  in  the  main  from  orphanage.  The  statement 
is  true,  but  not  in  the  sense  intended  by  Mr.  Brace. 
The  child  of  poor,  and  at  the  same  time  drunken,  or 
intemperate  parents,  is  born  an  orphan  in  reality ;  and 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


229 


of  the  fifteen  thousand  child-beggars  and  child-vagrants 
in  our  city's  streets,  it  will  be  found  that  their  being 
t!iere  is  caused  by  ruin.  They  are  conceived  and 
brought  forth  in  rum  literally,  and  may  therefore  be 
styled  the  legitimate  children  of  the  ten  thousand 
places  where  whisky  is  sold  in  our  city.  What  orpha- 
age  more  absolute  in  the  wretchedness  it  entails  than 
that  which  a  drunken  father  voluntarily  confers  upon 
his  innocent  offspring.  If  it  were  possible  to  get  at 
the  precise  figures  in  this  matter,  it  would  be  found 
that  rum,  immediate  or  remote,  is  at  the  bottom  of 
nine  out  of  every  ten  cases  of  juvenile  delinquency 
known  in  this  city. 

Allowing  a  frontage  of  twenty  feet  to  each  one  of 
these  ten  thousand  orphan  manufactures  upon  which 
to  erect  the  building  in  which  he  kills  by  inches  his 
victims,*  and  a  street  eighteen  miles  in  length,  lined  on 
both  sides  with  rum  shops,  would  be  the  result. 

What  a  frightful  showing  run  up  in  the  interest  of 
a  single  vice,  but  one  alas  that  is  the  parent  of  nearly 
all  the  others  in  the  catalogue  of  human  vices.  Could 
the  money  squandered  annually  in  these  ten  thousand 
death-distilleries  be  devoted  to  alleviating  the  wretch- 
edness and  misery  entailed  upon  the  children  of  their 
victims  alone,  it  would  afford  some  slight  palliation  of 
their  great  crime.  So  far  from  this,  we  have  these 
death-distributors  paying  over  a  bagatelle  in  the  way 
of  a  license-fee  annually,  the  only  decent  transaction 
in  its  results  connected  with  the  whole  vile  business. 

Could  these  literally  bloated  aristocrats,  whose 
puffy  fingers  and  shirt  bosoms  are  usually  found  laden 
with  diamonds  purchased  with  widows1  and  orphans' 
tears,  see  at  a  single  glance,  the  fifty  thousand  sad  and 
prematurely  old  faces,  the  work  of  their  own  hands, 


230 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


that  greet  New  Yorkers  every  day  of  the  year  on  the 
streets,  it  would  be  a  sight  prolific  of  anything  but 
pleasant  reflections  even  in  these  easy-going  gentle- 
men of  the  bar.  What  a  procession,  too,  would  that 
be,  that  should  disclose  at  its  head  this  same  gallant 
and  highly  respectable  ten  thousand,  followed  by  their 
daily  customers,  male  and  female,  their  children  bring- 
ing up  the  rear.  With  what  exultant  pride  could 
they  point  the  dear  public  to  the  motley  army  behind 
them,  and  say,  "  Behold  the  work  of  our  hands. 
These  are  they  which  have  come  to  us  through  great 
tribulation.  Good  Samaritans  like,  we  took  them  in, 
covered  with  rags  and  tilth,  and  sent  them  back  penni- 
less to  their  homes  in  the  slums.  Soon  the  places  that 
now  know  them,  will  know  them  no  more  forever, 
and  we  present  thern  to  you  for  the  last  time,  in  order 
that  you  may  have  them  in  future  in  your  own  keep- 
ing. Poor  in  spirit  and  in  body,  and  poorer  still  in 
purse,  they  are  no  longer  of  any  use  or  profit  to  us, 
and  we  gladly  remit  them  to  your  hands,  and  beseech 
you,  on  our  knees,  to  give  us  a  new  supply." 

Will  the  dear  public,  so  tenderly  addressed,  resist 
so  bewitching  an  appeal  ?  Why  should  it '{  Are  not 
these  men  the  politicians  that  move  heaven  and  earth, 
pouring  freely  out  the  money  thus  stolen  to  elect  the 
candidate  that  protects  them  in  their  death-dealing 
work  ?  What  should  the  public  do,  pray,  but  get 
down  on  its  knees,  as  it  does  every  day,  to  these 
shoulder-hitting  traffickers  in  crime,  and  give  them 
carte  blanche  in  a  business  that  hides  its  older  victims 
in  the  grave-yards  of  the  country,  while  its  younger 
ones  go  to  swell  the  long  roll  of  the  state  prisons,  the 
penitentiaries,  and  the  reformatories  scattered  every- 
where to  receive  them. 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


231 


"Were  it  not  for  the  efforts  constantly  made  for 
their  amelioration,  the  evils  that  flow  from  intem- 
perance alone  would  make  our  city  one  vast  lazar- 
house  of  crime,  disease,  and  poverty  combined.  It 
does  seem  a  little  strange  that  human  ingenuity  pros* 
trates  itself  in  abasement  at  the  feet  of  this  rum-god 
as  it  does  to  no  other,  and  that  it  has  yet  found  no 
means  to  stay  his  ravages  even,  but  leaves  him  now, 
as  it  has  left  him  for  centuries,  in  full  possession  of 
the  field.  What  a  continuous  satire  upon  all  human 
government  is  the  fact,  that  nineteen-twentieths  of  our 
population  yield  an  almost  passive  obedience  to  the 
rum-selling  remainder,  and  what  is  more  marvelous 
still  in  a  New  Yorker,  doing  it  at  the  expense  of  their 
own  pockets. 

What  nonsense  is  our  boasted  freedom,  when 
in  the  very  face  of  it,  the  great  bulk  of  an  other- 
wise strong-willed  and  hard-working  people,  per- 
mit themselves  to  be  absolutely  preyed  upon  by  a 
small  fraction  of  their  own  number.  But  so  it  is, 
and  we  leave  this  problem,  to  be  solved  by  the 
scientists,  with  the  hope  that  the  satisfactory  solution 
may  speedily  come.  That  such  a  solution  would  go 
far  toward  making  us  in  reality,  what  we  claim  to  be 
with  a  good  deal  of  unnecessary  flourish  at  times,  a 
Christian  nation,  is  very  certain  ;  and  hence  let  us  all 
pray  that  the  problem  may  be  speedily  solved. 

In  the  closely-packed  cities  of  Europe,  poverty  and 
suffering  among  the  poorer  classes  are  inevitable. 
There,  where  resources  are  meagre,  and  where  a  dollar 
is  earned  with  necessarily  twice  the  effort  that  produ- 
ces it  here,  prudence  and  thrift  constantly  exercised 
are  needful  to  keep  a  poor  family  from  want,  and  hence 
the  suffering  in  these  cities  among  the  laboring  classes 


232  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


finds  many  reasons  for  its  existence  that  have  no  place 
with  us.  The  harder  the  task  of  keeping  body  and 
soul  together,  the  greater  is  the  amount  of  courage 
required  to  do  it,  and  it  is  found  as  a  rule,  that  with 
those  in  whom  existence  is  purchased  at  so  dear  a  rate, 
and  yields  so  little  of  comfort  or  pleasure  when  it 
comes,  that  pride,  ambition,  courage,  all  the  qualities 
that  set  human  energy  in  motion  in  the  work  of  self- 
preservation,  seem  wanting,  so  that  after  a  brief  strug- 
gle against  both,  they  go  under  at  last  without  a  care 
for  the  future,  under  the  belief  that  as  the  world  owes 
them  a  living,  the  world  must  pay  its  debts. 

With  us  the  case  is  far  different.  Absolute  want 
from  any  cause,  save  sickness  or  physical  inability, 
is  a  crime.  This  may  seem  harsh,  but  it  is  at  all  events 
true.  In  a  country  like  our  own,  where  resources  are 
abundant  in  all  directions,  no  man  who  can  work  need 
be  idle.  The  sure  proof  of  this  lies  in  the  fact  that 
we  employ  more  unskilled  labor,  and  pay  better  prices 
for  it,  than  any  other  country  in  the  world.  The  great 
scarcity  of  skilled  labor,  as  one  result  of  the  "  trades 
unions,"  is  one  cause  of  this,  so  that  in  our  extremity 
we  are  driven  to  employ  any  one  that  will  work,  with- 
out much  regard  to  his  capacity.  So  despotic  in  their 
exclusiveness  have  these  unions  become,  that  appren- 
ticeship, once  the  great,  and  always  the  sure  source  of 
skilled  labor,  has  been  for  the  most  part  cut  off,  the 
union  men  refusing  to  work  in  the  same  shops  where 
apprentices  are  employed. 

The  result  of  all  this  is,  that  a  single  body  of  work- 
men have  it  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  employment 
of  apprentices,  and  what  is  a  still  greater  outrage,  are 
able  to  dictate  what  shall  be  paid  to  inferior,  profli- 
gate, and  unthrifty  workmen.    This  is  called  a  system 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


233 


of  protection,  and  so  it  is,  a  protection  that  favors  one 
class,  but  which  discriminates  against  all  the  rest. 

There  are  thousands  of  boys  who  would  be  glad  to 
learn  trades  in  this  city,  and  who  through  such  oppor- 
tunities for  self-support  would  become  good,  thrifty 
citizens,  but  the  "  unions  "  say  no,  and  capital  suc- 
cumbs. Driven  to  the  wall,  capital  resorts  to  machin- 
ery, and  such  other  devices  as  it  can  find  to  keep  itself 
profitably  employed,  in  spite  of  the  ill-guided  men 
who  seek  to  cripple  it,  in  the  vain  hope  that  they  will 
be  benefitted  in  the  end,  is  a  fatal  mistake,  that  they 
will  realize  to  their  cost  some  day.  One  of  these  days 
when  we  shall  find  that  a  little  free  trade  in  labor  will 
be  a  good  thing  to  have.  The  principle  that  labor 
should  be  compelled  to  go  into  the  market  as  a  pound 
of  butter  goes,  leaving  its  price  to  be  regulated  by  its 
quality,  and  the  demand  for  it,  will  assert  itself  at  no 
distant  day,  and  will,  moreover,  attest  its  superiority 
as  a  measure  suggested  by  common  sense. 

Hence,  and  for  the  reasons  mentioned,  taken  toge- 
ther with  the  fact  that  our  needs  in  the  field  of  labor, 
and  especially  skilled  labor,  and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  farm  labor,  are  far  beyond  our  ability  to  supply 
them  from  a  population  scattered  over  so  broad  an 
area,  poverty,  here  with  us,  save  from  the  causes  men- 
tioned, is  a  crime.  Put  into  a  single  class  the  poverty 
induced  directly  and  remotely  by  rum,  and  that  which 
results  from  physical  incapacity,  and  there  would  be 
nothing  left  of  it  for  which  the  public  would  be  justly 
called  upon  to  have  a  care.  All  the  rest,  save  the 
children,  whom  we  have  not  taken  into  the  account, 
could  and  should  be  made  to  take  care  of  itself,  and 
would  do  so,  if  our  good,  and  often  too  charitable  peo- 
ple, wrould  cease  for  awhile  the  habit  of  looking  after 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


and  insisting  upon  supplying  all  its  wants,  and  thus 
becoming  themselves  the  eneouragers  and  supporters 
of  idleness. 

After  we  shall  have  had  a  few  more  financial  re- 
verses, the  result  of  extravagant  living,  want  of  thrift, 
and  the  great  need  of  that  system  in  all  our  doings 
that  is  so  distinguishing  a  quality  among  older  and 
hence  better  trained  peoples,  we  will  get  down  to  a 
real  understanding  of  what  our  needs  really  are,  and 
of  our  defects  as  well,  and  shall  then  get  ourselves  at 
work  in  good  earnest  to  remedy  the  evils  that  afflict  us. 

The  juvenile  thieves  of  New  York,  a  class  distinct 
in  itself,  and  sweeping  within  its  fearful  circle,  girls  as 
well  as  boys,  presents  a  most  interesting,  though  sad 
phase  of  youthful  depravity.  Born  to  the  beggar's 
inheritance,  they  pass  from  native  smartness,  through 
every  avenue  leading  from  beggary  to  crime,  until 
they  appear  as  full  fledged  purloiners  of  anything  upon 
which  they  can  lay  their  hands,  with  the  hope  of  get- 
ting away  with  the  plunder  to  some  place  of  conceal- 
ment. They  are  as  cunning  a  crew  of  artful  dodgers 
as  can  be  found  in  the  world,  and,  as  could  be  shown, 
far  shrewder  as  a  class  than  the  child-thieves  of  Paris, 
who  are  supposed  to  be  in  possession  to  a  larger  degree 
than  any  others  of  the  secrets  that  make  thievery  a 
science.  From  the  sacking  of  a  house,  to  the  tapping 
of  a  till,  they  show  a  power  of  adaptation  to  their  busi- 
ness that  is  born  of  self-confidence  and  utter  self-aban- 
donment to  the  business  in  hand.  Ingenious  in  their 
movements  beyond  conception,  they  are  constantly  on 
the  alert,  and  show  an  amount  of  energy  and  industry 
that  if  employed  in  an  honest  direction,  would  lift 
them  to  speedy  independence,  if  thrift  were  added  to 
their  native  shrewdness. 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  235 

Boys  of  twelve  years  and  under  are  often  found  to 
be  experts  in  the  use  of  any  and  all  the  appliances 
needful  for  a  successful  burglary.  The  ransacking  of 
an  empty  house,  or  of  one  temporarily  closed,  is  often 
accomplished  with  a  rapidity  and  completeness  that 
extorts  something  akin  to  admiration  from  the  police 
into  whose  hands  they  finally  fall. 

In  one  case  that  came  within  our  knowledge,  three 
boys  of  about  thirteen  years  each,  entered  a  house  in 
32d  Street  during  the  absence  of  the  family  occupying 
it,  and  not  only  succeeded  in  blowing  open  the  safe 
that  contained  the  family  silver  and  other  valuables, 
but  packed  up  and  carried  away  light  articles  of  value 
to  the  amount  of  §5000.  They  were  caught  early  on 
a  Saturday  night  by  the  owner  suddenly  returning  for 
a  single  night,  and  who  found  the  rascals  removing 
the  curtains  from  the  parlor  windows.  They  had 
sawed  their  way  into  the  house  through  a  back  door, 
and  were  doubtless  congratulating  themselves  upon 
their  success  in  a  rich  field  of  operations,  when  they 
fell  ignominiously  from  a  pinnacle  of  glory  into  the 
nearest  station  house.  Between  these  extremes  of  the 
art  of  thievery,  there  is  a  sliding  scale  of  adventure 
that  affords  an  ample  field  for  the  greatest  diversity  of 
talent.  These  little  rascals  will  go  through  an  empty 
house  with  a  nonchalance,  and  an  utter  disregard  of 
the  law  of  meum  and  teuni  that  commands  instantly 
the  highest  admiration.  Vandalism  is  no  name  for 
their  spoliations.  Gas  fixtures,  lead  pipe  wrenched 
from  its  concealment  in  walls  and  among  timbers, 
yield  to  their  accomplished  touch  in  a  way  that  even 
a  plumber  would  envy,  and  often  the  fact  that  a  house 
hag  been  despoiled  in  this  manner  is  first  indicated  by 
the  flood  that  follows  the  removal  of  the  pipes,  and 


23 G  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


which  the  little  thieves  enjoy  as  a  particularly  good 
joke  of  youthful  smartness  in  a  somewhat  dangerous 
and  difficult  business. 

Girl  thieves  are  almost  as  prolific  as  boy  "  lifters," 
but  the  operations  of  these  are  confined  to  more  indef- 
inite and  casual  limits,  and  consists  for  the  most  part 
in  petty  thefts  that  are  rarely  discovered  until  it  is  too 
late  to  arrest  the  little  beggar  thief,  who  never  goes  a 
second  time  to  the  place  in  which  she  has  stolen  a 
shawl,  or  a  ring,  or  any  other  little  thing  that  her  fin- 
gers could  clutch  as  she  passes  into  the  street  from  any 
house  in  which  she  has  been  admitted. 

A  sad  feature  in  these  cases  is  the  ease  with  which 
girls  of  tender  age  glide  from  thievery  into  prostitu- 
tion. Large  numbers  of  these  through  the  training  of 
their  parents,  become  the  most  expert  black-mailers, 
a  business  which,  unhappily  for  us  in  New  York  and 
Brooklyn,  has  been  recently  elevated  into  a  profession, 
and  dignified  with  something  like  respectability.  When 
the  Moultons  and  Tiltons  of  our  aristocracy  condescend 
to  step  down  from  the  hitherto  elevated  plane  of  mor- 
ality and  piety  combined,  upon  which  the  world  has 
looked  out  upon  them  for  years,  upon  that  which 
marks  the  blackmailer  of  the  slums,  or  that  class  of 
them  that  advertise  in  the  New  York  Herald,  surely 
the  beggar  girls  of  the  street,  whose  dainty  fingers 
clasp  the  boquet  that  is  to  prove  the  ruin  of  the  un- 
wary, can  be  pardoned  for  imitating  their  superiors  in 
this  most  delicate  and  refined  occupation. 

Such  adepts  have  these  creatures  become  many  of 
them,  and  so  successful  are  they  in  their  business  that 
they  are  found  divided  into  regularly  organized  bands 
for  the  purpose,  their  own  chastity  and  youth  being 
the  capital  upon  which  they  set  up  their  trade.  But 


Beggars  and  Pauper i 


237 


what  can  be  more  absurd  than  a  girl  black-mailer  of 
twelve  years  of  age,  and  many  of  them  are  not  a  day 
older.  The  mode  of  operations  is  to  confront  respect- 
able old  gentlemen  on  their  way  to  business,  with  a 
boquet,  or  a  box  of  matches,  or  whatever  else  she 
may  have  to  sell,  follow  him  to  his  place  of  business, 
and  then  boldly  entering  when  he  is  occupied  with 
some  customer,  charge  him  with  an  attempt  to 
seduce  her.  The  police  say  that  large  sums  are  con- 
stantly being  paid  by  these  old  fools  to  these  little 
sinners,  to  prevent  exposure.  The  thing  seems  in- 
credible, but  it  is  true  nevertheless.  There  is  a  lurking 
suspicion  that  any  man  who  will  allow  himself  to  be 
caught  in  such  a  net  is  either  an  imbecile,  a  coward, 
or  guilty  of  the  charge,  none  of  which  is  a  credit  to 
his  common  sense  or  his  independence  of  character. 
In  any  city  abroad,  such  a  brood  would  be  extermin- 
ated by  a  single  brush  of  the  police.  Here  they  are 
allowed  to  flourish  and  ply  their  trade  upon  old  inno- 
cents and  dotards,  with  now  and  then  an  old  rascal, 
in  whom  the  fires  of  passion  have  not  been  stilled  by 
age  or  self-control.  Toward  this  latter  class,  no  mercy 
should  be  shown,  and  both  the  blackmailer  and  the 
victim  should  be  subjected  to  an  arrest  and  punish- 
ment. In  the  case  of  those  who  are  innocent,  but  who 
still  pay  hush  money,  the  payment  is  made  through 
a  false  notion  that  an  injury  to  character  would  result 
in-  case  of  exposure.  The  character  that  would  be 
injured  by  taking  one  of  these  little  sinners  by  the 
ears  and  handing  her  over  to  the  police,  must  retain 
its  hold  upon  respectability  by  a  very  slender  thread 
indeed. 

This  whole  dirty  business  illustrates  the  moral  cow- 
ardice that  afflicts  all  in  a  country  where  social  dis- 


233 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


tinctions  and  grades  are  the  most  uncertain  things  in 
their  tenure  of  all  earthly  possessions.  The  utter 
shamelessness  with  which  this  crime  is  perpetrated, 
and  the  inconsistency  of  it  when  taken  in  connection 
with  the  tender  age  of  those  who  perpetrate  it,  will 
soon  lead  to  its  being  broken  up  altogether,  and  when 
it  is,  a  good  deal  of  spectacled,  sensitive,  but  nervous 
respectability  and  virtue,  will  experience  infinite  relief, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  old  sinners  who  will  be  allowed 
to  become  the  aggressors,  and  so  turn  a  black-mailing 
business  into  one  that  need  not  be  mentioned  here,  but 
which  the  new  state  of  things  will  naturally  sug- 
gest. 

Now  and  then  one  of  these  sweet-faced  specimens 
of  youthful  female  impudence  gets  a  Roland  for  her 
Oliver,  and  something  besides  which  she  has  not  bar- 
gained for.  A  gentleman  of  large  wealth,  a  bachelor, 
and  long  a  boarder  at  an  up-town  fashionable  hotel, 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  having  his 'laundress  bring  his 
linen  to  his  room.  On  two  or  three  occasions  a  daugh- 
ter of  the  woman,  a  young  and  pretty  girl,  had  come 
instead,  and  the  girl  being  bright,  and  a  little  pert  be- 
sides, he  had  probably,  as  he  stated  in  court  he  had, 
indulged  in  a  little  banter  with  the  young  woman. 
The  mother  brought  his  clothes  on  a  certain  day,  and 
after  receiving  her  pay  for  the  work,  informed  the  gen- 
tleman that  she  should  not  be  able  to  look  after  his 
linen  any  longer,  omitting  just  then,  however,  to  state 
that  she  should  nevertheless  open  another  account  with 
him.  At  this  stage  of  the  interim  the  daughter  en- 
tered, of  course  by  pre-arrangement  with  her  maternal 
instructor,  and  charging  the  gentleman  with  having 
seduced  her — she  had  actually  been  seduced,  but  not 
by  him — demanded  a  large  sum  as  hush  money,  to 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


239 


begin  with,  and  still  another  to  be  paid  when  the  ease 
should  reach  its  climax,  in  the  birth  of  the  expected 
offspring.  The  man  was  thunderstruck,  and  being  a 
modest  bachelor  of  fifty  years  or  more,  found  himself 
in  the  ugliest  dilemma  of  his  life.  His  first  impulse 
wras  to  make  the  best  terms  possible,  but  the  second 
sober  thought  convinced  him,  he  being  a  man  of  the 
world,  that  if  he  paid  the  demand,  he  would  be  com- 
pelled to  repeat  the  preliminary  dose  at  every  fresh 
demand,  and  that  meanwhile  he  should  be  doomed  to 
"  hang  on  the  ragged  edge  "  of  an  ever-present  "  re- 
morse," to  say  nothing  of  "  despair,"  and  not  being  a 
high  dignitary,  or  a  cardinal,  or  even  an  ordinary 
preacher,  he  proceeded  to  business  after  the  following 
fashion.  Putting  on  his  hat,  he  walked  out  into  the 
hall,  turned  the  key  upon  the  black-mailers,  and  started 
for  the  hotel  detective,  an  attache  now  become  a  neces- 
sary appendage  at  some  of  our  large  hotels.  Not  finding 
this,  for  the  most  part,  ornamental  personage  at  his 
post,  he  started  in  pursuit  of  a  policeman,  convinced 
as  he  went  that  he  had  chosen  the  proper  and  only 
course  likely  to  relieve  him  of  present  and  future  diffi- 
culties from  the  same  source.  On  regaining  his  room, 
accompanied  by  an  officer,  he  found  the  woman  in  a 
state  of  repentance  that  was  ludicrous  in  the  extreme. 
Hie  mother  confessed  herself  a  black-mailer,  the 
daughter  was  sullen  and  silent,  and  the  gentleman  not 
being  in  a  compromising  mood,  both  were  marched  off 
in  company  with  the  officer.  On  the  examination,  the 
accused  told  a  story  so  straight  that  both  were  com- 
mitted to  answer  a  charge  of  conspiracy.  The  gentle- 
man has  been  at  peace  ever  since,  so  far  as  any  intru- 
sion upon  the  sanctity  of  his  bachelor  home  on  the  part 
of  these  two  worthies  is  concerned,  but  his  linen  goes 


240  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


to  a  regular  laundry,  and  not  to  a  washerwoman  who 
has  a  daughter. 

Thus  it  is,  that  here  in  our  streets,  children,  girls  of 
tender  age  even,  pass,  by  steady  advancement  from 
petty  thievery,  to  the  commission  of  crimes  that  re- 
quire, to  be  successful,  the  coolness,  the  impudence, 
and  the  skill  of  old  offenders. 

What  is  to  be  done  with  this  vast  army  of  petty 
criminals,  hundreds  of  whom  have  not  reached  the  age 
of  legal  responsibility  ?  It  is  plainly  evident  that  the 
law  is  almost  powerless  in  its  dealings  with  them. 
Much  has  been  done,  and  is  being  done,  in  the  way  of 
private  effort,  and  something  as  well  by  the  private 
charities,  but  the  number  of  these  criminals  goes  on 
increasing  every  year,  for  the  want  of  a  bureau  to 
which  should  be  committed  every  case  of  juvenile  de- 
linquency that  occurs  in  our  streets.  What  is  every- 
body's business  is  emphatically  nobody's  business  in 
this  domain  of  administration,  and  no  system  will 
reach  the  case  that  does  not  comprehend  the  entire 
and  absolute  control  of  all  the  child-outcasts  that  in- 
fest our  streets. 

Justice  to  the  public,  and  to  these  waifs  them- 
selves, demands  that  something  more  than  we  are 
now  doing  be  inaugurated  for  their  care,  reforma- 
tion, and  education.  It  is  cheaper,  if  economy  alone 
be  considered,  to  look  after  them  in  their  criminal 
incipiency  than  to  be  compelled  to  support  them 
in  our  state  prisons  when  they  shall  have  got  beyond 
all  desire  or  hope  of  reform.  The  law  cannot  deal 
justly  with  these  cases,  for  the  simple  reason  that  the 
law  is  only  a  machine  without  sympathy  or  feeling,  a 
mere  instrument  through  which  punishment  comes 
upon  conviction.    Like  the  "  water-cure,"  that  was  as 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


211 


"  old  as  the  flood,"  in  the  language  of  its  inventor, 
the  law  "  kills  more  than  it  cures." 

Should  any  person  interested  in  having  this  class  of 
child  delinquents  brought  under  a  system  of  super- 
vision that  would  forever  remove  them  beyond  the 
clutches  of  the  judges  of  our  police  courts,  let  him  go 
and  witness  the  stupid,  heartless  mode  practiced  there 
in  nearly  every  case  of  juvenile  delinquency  calling  for 
an  examination.  Dragged,  terror-stricken,  as  they 
often  are,  before  these  models  of  intelligence  and  wis- 
dom, the  little  culprits  are  bullied  and  intimidated, 
and  finally  dismissed  with  a  rude  reprimand  such  as 
might  be  expected  from  the  mouth  of  a  fifth-rate  ward 
politician,  or  "  sent  up "  with  the  remark  that  the 
little  offender  deserves  hanging,  and  would  have  it 
now,  if  the  gentle,  fatherly  Dogberry  had  power  to 
pull  the  rope. 

To  expect  that  officials,  like  those  that  disgrace  jus- 
tice in  the  police  courts  in  this  city,  have  it  in  their 
hearts  to  bestow  a  word  of  sympathy  upon  a  poor  un- 
fortunate outcast  child  even,  is  absurd.  As  well  might 
one  expect  to  gather  grapes  of  thistles.  The  only 
thought  that  enters  their  coarse  stupid  brains,  is  to 
shuffle  through  the  morning's  calendar  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, in  order  that  the  rest  of  the  day  may  be  spent 
in  looking  after  their  own  private  affairs,  or  the  poli- 
tics of  the  district  to  which  they  owe  their  elevation  to 
a  place  for  which  they  usually  have  especial  disquali- 
fications, one  of  which  invariably  is  an  utter  want  of 
appreciation  of  the  important  place  they  are,  unfor- 
tunate^ for  the  public,  called  upon  to  fill.  The  adult 
offenders  who  come  before  these  worthies  after  a 
night's  debauch,  or  in  consequence  of  some  crime 
committed,  are,  in  the  main,  old  offenders,  callous  to 


242 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


appeals  of  any  sort:  but  a  kind  word  of  advice  spoken 
by  a  magistrate  to  one  of  these  little  delinquents, 
would  be  human,  at  least,  and  often  productive  of 
good  besides. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  in  many  matters  relating  to 
municipal  administration,  will  come  an  improvement 
sooner  or  later,  upon  the  present  code,  as  applied  to 
children  found  guilty  of  petty  crimes  or  misde- 
meanors. 

Common  sense,  sympathy,  and  a  real  care  for  the 
future  of  the  little  criminals,  is  what  is  needed  for  the 
bettering  of  his  condition,  with  just  so  much  of  law 
as  will  make  him  amenable  to  discipline,  and  such  a 
treatment  of  his  case,  as  a  whole,  as  will  be  most 
certain  to  send  him  back  to  society  morally,  at  least, 
a  new  creature.  Already  much  has  been  done  in  this 
direction,  but  chiefly  by  our  private  charities;  what 
is  needed  now  is  regular,  systematic,  and  kindly 
work,  properly  authorized,  and  intelligently  and 
faithfully  performed.  Under  the  workings  of  such 
a  system,  in  good  hands,  the  good  results  would 
be  incalculable ;  and  we  believe  the  time  is  coming 
when  just  such  a  system  will  be  inaugurated  by  the 
state.  The  state  provides  a  system  of  instruction  for 
its  children,  and  it  is  its  positive  duty  to  go  one  step 
further,  and  provide  reformatories  in  addition,  for  out- 
cast children  whose  parents  have  thrown  them  upon 
the  world  for  support.  A  child  of  tender  years,  with- 
out father,  mother,  or  any  friend  to  assume  the  care  of 
it  becomes  the  child  of  the  state,  and  the  state  should 
see  to  it  that  the  responsibility  and  duties  imposed  by 
such  charge  are  not  shirked,  but  met  and  performed  in 
accordance  with  the  enlightened  and  humane  spirit  of 
the  age. 


CHAPTER  V. 


•  THE   GAMINS  OF  NEW  YORK 

Modern  civilization  litis  given  birth  to  no  character 
more  distinctive  in  its  features  than  the  gamin  of  the 
streets,  that  compound  of  cunning,  independence, 
sharpness  and  impudence,  who  has  bestowed  on  him 
at  birth  the  quality  of  omnipresence,  and  who  never 
loses  it  until  he  is  lost  in  the  crowd,  or  what  is  too 
often  the  case,  in  the  state  prison.  He  is  the  most 
emphatic  and  distinctly  marked  fact  of  modern  enter- 
prise, and  the  possibilities  that  lie  wrapped  up  in 
modern  ingenuity  and  go-aheadativeness.  Victor  Hu- 
go, in  his  immortal  picture  of  him  in  Lcs  MisemMes, 
gave  him  to  the  world  in  his  sharper,  coarser  outline. 
Dickens  tinished  the  picture,  by  showing  how  much  of 
tenderness  and  native  goodness  lay  concealed  in  this 
bit  of  ragged,  dirty,  yet  admirable  package  of  industry 
and  improvidence.  Ignorant  and  debased,  through 
the  influence  of  vile  surroundings  from  his  very  entrance 
upon  existence,  he  shows  at  an  early  age  capacities  for 
business  that  would  make  even  a  Wall-street  sharper 
open  wide  his  eyes  with  the  most  profound  admiration. 
Energy,  self-confidence,  indefatigable  industry,  such  as 
the  world  sees  in  no  other  class  of  workers,  are  the  es- 
sential characteristics  of  the  gamin.  When  it  comes 
to  thrift,  he  does  not  loom  up  especially  conspicuous, 
though  even  in  this  direction  he  is  sometimes  found  to 
be  a  marvel  of  unselfishness.  Instances  are  abundant 
to  show  that  he  sometimes  supports  from  his  hard 


244  Beggars  and  Paupers. 

earnings — and  no  worker  on  the  face  of  the  earth  earn3 
what  lie  gets  through  as  many  hard  knocks  from  dame 
fortune  as  he — a  drunken  father  and  mother,  while  his 
own  poor,  half-clad  body  and  empty  stomach  pay  the 
penalty  of  the  sacrifice.  We  call  him  an  outcast,  but  do 
we  ever  stop  to  ask  ourselves,  as  we  look  upon  him  of  a 
cold  morning,  with  scarcely  clothing  enough  upon  his 
little  body  to  hide  it  from  the  weather,  what  sort  of 
figure  we  would  make  under  the  same  circumstances 
and  surroundings,  and  whether  or  not  we  should  be 
better  or  worse  than  he  ? 

Let  us  look  at  him  as  he  stands  there,  runs  rather, 
for  he  is  always  on  a  canter,  with  a  load  of  newspapers 
under  his  arm,  or  with  the  outfit  of  the  boot  black  slung 
over  his  shoulder — he  is  usually  one  or  the  other  of 
these.  What  a  study  for  an  artist,  and  what  a  pity 
that  Hogarth  couldn't  have  seen  him  at  his  best,  when 
business  is  brisk,  and  when  his  little  dirty,  weather- 
stained  face  is  all  aglow  at  the  sight  of  the  coin  that 
warms  his  equally  dirty  palm.  Look  at  him  as  he  runs 
in  mad  haste  after  the  wagon  that  contains  his  news- 
paper capital,  every  nerve  and  tendon  in  his  half-starv- 
ed little  body  strained  to  its  utmost  tension,  his  eye 
fired  with  visions  of  profits  from  ready  sales  of  the 
freshest  bit  of  news.  With  a  desperation  almost  sav- 
age, he  clutches  from  the  back  of  the  vehicle  his  treas- 
ures, and  at  the  next  moment  the  paper  is  in  your 
hand  and  the  precious  coin  in  his  pocket.  Every  coin 
that  touches  his  finders  sends  through  his  sensitive 
frame  a  shiver  of  delight.  It  is  the  talisman  that 
beckons  fate  to  his  side  and  conquers  her  in  his  behalf, 
the  sesame  that  opens  wide  to  him  in  the  evening  that 
gamin's  paradise,  the  pit  of  the  old  Bowery  Theatre, 
or  the  rat-pit  of  the  sLums,  his  especial  delight,  when 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


245 


all  other  amusements  pall  on  his  not  over-refined 
tastes. 

He  is  a  Jim  Fisk  in  miniature,  and  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  had  he  some  one  to  lend  him  a  helping  hand  in 
time  to  pull  him  out  of  the  slough  in  which  he  is  per- 
force driven  to  walloAV,  would  exhibit  the  same  shrewd 
energy  in  a  better  sphere  that  he  displays  with  the 
odds  all  against  him.  Under  any  other  possibilities 
than  those  which  exist  to  day  in  our  large  cities  for 
self-help,  these  frisky  waifs  would  "  go  under "  in  a 
twinkling,  but  human  wants  and  needs  are  as  varied 
in  this  nineteenth  century  as  the  power  to  supply  them, 
and  so  the  news-boy  and  the  boot-black  take  their  places, 
as  well  they  may,  when  the  effort  to  win  them  is  con- 
sidered, among  the  enterprising  workers  of  our  great 
cities,  insomuch  that  they  have  become  part  and  parcel 
of  the  life  that  begets  them. 

Born  to  poverty,  and  bred,  if  indeed  they  can  be 
said  to  have  any  breeding  at  all — to  crime,  they  are 
better  far  than  the  conditions  of  their  birth,  and  illus- 
trate even  in  their  semi-vagabond  lives  the  fact  that 
total  depravity  must  go  to  a  social  strata  lower  than 
that  from  which  they  were  dug  up,  to  find  its  aptest 
subjects.  In  the  winter  their  work  commences  with 
the  darkness  of  after-midnight,  and  in  summer  at  the 
early  dawn.  When  the  rattle  of  the  Hoe  press  in  the 
basement  of  the  daily  paper  ceases,  and  the  editors 
and  workmen  creep  to  their  lodgings,  exhausted  with 
the  night's  toil,  the  news-boy  stands  or  lounges  in  the 
folding-room  ready  to  take  up  the  refrain.  For  him 
there  is  no  sleep  until  the  evening  papers  are  deposited 
in  the  hands  of  their  readers. 

All  day  long  these  industrious  little  human  fleag 
jump  from  car  to  car,  in  and  out  of  stores,  hotels  and 


246 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


depots,  and  every  imaginable  hole  or  corner  where  a 
customer  is  likely  to  be  found,  with  an  industry  thai 
never  flags,  and  a  courage  that  never  gives  way,  even 
for  a  moment.  The  world  might  be  searched  in  vain 
to  find  wrapped  up  in  a  single  body  of  trained  men 
even,  such  an  amazing  amount  of  the  stuff  out  of  which 
success  in  life  can  only  come — all  found  in  a  lot  of 
gamins  that  one  writer  has  mentioned  as  the  "  spawn 
of  our  civilization."  Of  all  the  children  born  to  pov- 
erty and  destitution  in  this  city,  none  are  so  little  de- 
serving of  such  a  title,  and  far  from  this  they  are  the 
creators  of  a  business  which  shows  a  greater  amount 
of  energy  and  enterprise  in  those  who  conduct  it  than 
can  be  found  in  any  other,  even  though  carried  on  by 
older  hands,  and  planned  by  older  brains. 

Mr.  Crapsey,  in  a  recent  volume  from  his  pen,  pays 
these  children  a  handsome  and  just  tribute,  showing 
from  figures  carefully  gathered,  how  herculean  is  the 
task  these  waifs  accomplish  every  day  of  the  year. 
Speaking  of  the  smallness  of  their  profits,  he  says  : 

"  If  a  boy  sells  one  hundred  papers  per  day,  he  is 
doing  more  than  an  average  business,  but  his  profits 
amount  only  to  about  fifty  cents ;  so  that  three  dollars 
per  week  is  more  than  the  general  reward  of  an  occu- 
pation that  consumes  fourteen  hours  per  day  and  re- 
quires a  daily  capital  almost  equal  to  the  weekly  pro- 
fits. Out  of  these  scanty  earnings,  got  at  such  great 
cost,  the  news-boy  can,  if  he  will,  live  decently  and 
comfortably.  Although  as  a  class  improvident  in  the 
last  degree,  hundreds  of  the  newsboys  take  the  benefits 
of  the  practical  philanthropy  of  the  Children's  Aid  So- 
ciety, which  has  established  the  News-boys'  Lodging 
House  at  No.  49  Park  Place,  where  a  boy  can  obtain 
wholesome  meals  and  a  clean  bed  at  a  cost  of  six  cents 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


217 


each.  Less  than  half  his  petty  profits,  therefore,  suf- 
fices for  his  sustenance  and  shelter,  leaving  him  twenty- 
six  cents  per  day  to  provide  him  clothing  and  other 
necessaries.  Out  of  such  gains  as  these  a  fund  of 
$2,433.60  lias  accumulated  in  the  Savings  Bank  at- 
tached to  the  Lodging  House  from  deposits  made  by 
1,104  boys  of  their  surplus  pennies.  But  cheering  as 
this  tact  is,  when  others  are  considered,  the  improvi- 
dence of  the  mass  and  the  vast  total  of  the  homeless 
boys  remain  uncontradicted.  During  the  year  1870, 
8,655  different  boys  were  inmates,  for  differing  periods, 
of  the  Lodging  House,  and  of  this  number,  3,122  were 
orphans,  and  3,651  were  half-orphans.  Of  the  whole 
number,  33  per  cent,  were  received  at  the  Lodging 
House  gratuitously,  because  they  were  destitute ;  and 
we  are  brought  face  to  face  with  the  appalling  fact 
that  during  1870,  2,500  boys,  under  the  age  of  four- 
teen years,  sought  in  vain  in  the  streets  of  Xew  York 
for  the  subsistence  that  costs  only  24  cents  a  day. 
That  this  is  a  misery  that  is  forced  upon  and  not  sought 
by  its  victims,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  during  the 
year  only  713  of  these  admitted  to  the  Lodging  House 
were  found  to  be  truants  who  had  fled  from  comfort- 
able homes  from  an  uncontrollable  spirit  of  adventure. 
All  the  others  were  actually  homeless,  nor  did  they 
constitute  the  total  of  the  infantile  privation  of  the 
year." 

It  is  impossible  to  contemplate  such  a  showing  as  the 
above,  with  au^ht  but  mimrled  sadness  and  admira- 
tion.  A  heroic  light  for  life  is  grand  in  itself,  but  when 
viewed  with  a  full  knowledge  of  all  the  circumstances 
that  make  it  heroic,  it  becomes  something  more  than 
this.  Adult  age  that  lias  left  a  happy  childhood  behind, 
retains  in  the  misfortunes  of  later  years  the  meniury, 


2±S  Beggars  and  Pauper* 


at  least,  of  better  days,  and  finds  in  this  something  to 
assuage  present  ills ;  but  how  vastly  different  the  ease 
of  childhood  such  as  this  of  which  we  speak  !  In  place 
of  the  freedom  from  care,  and  the  tender  love  and 
pleasant  associations,  that  render  this  period  what  it 
should  always  be,  and  wTould  be  but  for  the  brutality 
of  parents,  these  gamins  pass  this  period,  if  they  get 
through  it  at  all,  as  utterly  ignorant  of  any  approach  to 
childish  happiness  or  joyousness,  as  if  they  had  been 
born  in  South  Africa.  These  suffer  what  the  savage 
never  suffers,  the  bitterness  that  comes  from  the  con- 
trasts that  meet  him  at  every  step. 

Ragged,  hatless  and  shoeless,  perhaps  pinched  by 
cold  and  hunger,  he  looks  at  the  little  pampered  child 
of  fortune,  as  he  passes  in  his  velvet  wraps,  with  a  mo- 
mentary feeling  that,  compared  with  these,  his  lines 
have  not  fallen  in  very  pleasant  places,  and  that  when  the 
good  things  of  this  world  were  passed  to  the  children 
he  was  somehow  forgotten  and  kicked  into  a  corner.  It 
is  all  over  in  a  moment,  his  philosophy  has  settled  the 
knotty  question  to  his  own  satisfaction,  and  running 
for  a  corner  where  the  sun  condescends  to  shine,  he 
warms  himself  into  a  sweet  dream  of  forgetfulness  in  a 
game  of  marbles,  or  matching  pennies  with  a  brother 
of  his  own  order.  We  have  sometimes  thought  his  eye 
turned  up  writh  a  kind  of  bewitching  indifference  to  all 
earthly  things,  save  the  game  in  hand,  and  in  which 
he  shows  always  an  entire  absorption  that  is  marvel- 
lous, yet  despite  all  his  ills,  and  the  fact  that  he  is  at 
best  but  a  little  savage,  he  is  after  all  the  happiest 
creature  alive. 

It  is  thought  that  the  orphan  gamins  are  really  hap- 
pier than  those  who  have  parents,  for  in  the  latter  case 
their  earnings  in  seven  cases  out  of  ten  go  to  support 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  249 


in  idleness  and  drunkenness  cruel  and  beastly  parents. 
In  these  cases  the  kicks  and  cuffs  that  fortune  bestows 
on  them  during  the  day  are  repeated  at  night  in  the 
foul  dens  they  call  their  homes.  How  much  is  abso- 
lute orphanage  to  be  preferred  to  a  life  so  sunless  and 
cheerless  as  this  ?  Take  them  all  in  all,  they  are  an 
incomprehensible  army  of  vagabonds,  these  newsboys, 
an  enigma  in  our  civilization.  To  attempt  an  analysis 
of  their  character  or  condition,  would  prove  another 
Sphynx  riddle,  and  it  must  remain  forever  unsolved. 
To  rate  them  from  the  ordinary  or  common  standpoint 
of  juvenile  life,  is  impossible.  Boys  of  tender  years 
are  not  in  the  habit  of  developing  tastes  and  capacities 
for  business  that  are  usually  the  result  of  mature  years, 
a  taste  that  grows  by  exercise  till  it  waxes  into  a  pas- 
sion that  in  later  years  becomes  unconquerable.  Yet 
here  is  a  class  unlike  any  other,  of  mere  children,  that, 
unaided  and  alone — for  what  social  isolation  like  that 
of  the  news-boy  % — take  to  business  while  yet  in  their 
short-clothes,  with  a  zest  and  energy  unrivaled.  The 
bare  motive  of  necessity  is  not  sufficient  to  account  for 
an  energy  that  seems  almost  superhuman,  and  we  older 
people  who  think  our  lot  a  hard  one  if  it  imposes  the 
daily  task  of  a  half  dozen  hours  of  pleasant  occupation, 
handsomely  rewarded,  may  well  stand  abashed  by  the 
side  of  the  half-starved  gamin  who  puts  in  ten  or 
twelve  hours  a  day  and  gallops  to  his  kennel  at  night 
with  a  heart  as  light  as  a  feather,  if  the  weather  only  is 
warm,  and  all  for  the  matter  of  fifty  cents,  the  product 
of  his  day's  work.  What  full-grown  man,  or  body  of 
men,  with  a  hundred  inducements  pushing  them  on, 
that  the  news-boy  cannot  feel,  can  be  found  exhibiting 
so  many  qualities  of  an  honorable  manhood,  and  without 
any  of  the  training  from  which  such  qualities  are  sup- 


250 


Beggars  a..d  Paupers. 


posed  to  come  ?  Fun  and  frolic  are  perennial  with 
him,  just  the  same  as  with  hoys  better  favored,  and 
striking  out  from  the  sjioulder  at  his  fate,  knocks  it 
into  the  corner. 

Is  it  not  possible  that  this  little  animal,  so  utterly 
unlike  any  other  known  species,  has  in  him  instincts 
and  impulses  apart  from  those  of  his  kind,  special  gifts 
from  the  only  kind  Father  he  will  ever  know,  and  who 
seems  to  have  specially  endowed  him  for  the  niche  he 
fills  in  a  cold  and  selfish  world  ?  Is  it  not  possible  that 
be  is  endowed  at  birth  with  the  power  of  choice  be- 
tween the  pauper's  grave  and  that  which  he  may  find 
after  a  long  and  useful  life  ?  To  look  at  him,  one 
would  never  suppose  he  had  a  thought  or  a  wish  for 
aught  beyond  the,  to  him,  supreme  present.  But  all 
this  is  said  of  the  better  class  of  these  gamins.  A  large 
proportion  of  them  fall  by  the  way.  Their  very  suc- 
cess often  proves  their  ruin.  Mounting  from  a  point 
so  low  in  life  that  it  cannot  be  estimated,  to  an  income 
of  fifty  cents  a  day,  and  although  they  do  not  behave 
so  absurdly  as  full-grown  men  do,  who  go  from  pov- 
erty to  affluence  at  a  bound,  even  these  well-puised 
gamins  sometimes  succumb  to  good  fortune  and  go 
under,  after  sunning  themselves  gloriously  for  a  time 
in  her  smiles.  It  requires  a  tolerably  strong,  and  well- 
governed  will,  to  resist  the  burning  power  of  fifty  cents 
in  a  news-boy's  pocket,  and  yet  many  of  them,  though 
beset  by  temptations  on  every  hand,  manage  to  save  a 
little  every  day  out  of  the  pittance  earned.  We  take 
our  leave  of  these  waifs,  in  this  chapter,  with  a  sigh  of 
regret,  freely  confessing  that  in  all  our  wanderings  we 
have  met  no  class  of  human  beings  that  have  touched 
so  tenderly  the  very  marrow  of  our  sympathies.  We 
have  looked  out  upon  them  from  every  point  writhin 


Beggars  and  Paupers.  251 


our  vision,  and  under  no  circumstances  have  they  ever 
inspired  our  anger  or  contempt.  To  say  that  in  the 
matter  of  native  goodness,  they  compare  well  as  a  class 
with  the  average  of  mankind,  is  to  utter  but  half  the 
truth.  It  seems  impossible  not  to  believe  that  under 
happier  conditions  of  birth  and  fortune, , no  equal  num- 
ber taken  from  any  class  better  favored  than  these, 
would  yield  a  larger  percentage  of  honorable  manhood 
in  the  end.  There  is  something  so  grand  in  a  hand  to 
hand  light  for  life  and  bread,  grandly  carried  on  by  a 
man  or  woman,  that  it  invariably  commands  the  re- 
spect and  the  admiration  of  the  most  cold  and  selfish 
of  our  kind  ;  when  carried  on  by  a  child  in  knee- 
breeches,  or  without  any  breeches  at  all,  as  is  often  the 
case  with  these  tatterdemalions,  there  is  no  name  for 
or  limit  to  our  respect. 

The  boot-black  is  another  offshoot  of  our  civilization, 
standing  in  very  close  relations,  of  a  morning  especial- 
ly, with  the  human  understanding,  though  he  never 
attempts  to  put  a  lock  on  it  as  some  more  successful 
polishers  of  it  have  done  before  him.  He  is  not  so  at- 
tractive in  person  or  in  manners  as  his  quondam  bro- 
ther of  the  street.  Though  not  over  pious,  he  usually 
swears,  chews  tobacco,  and  steals  on  state  occasions, 
when  times  are  tough,  and  the  pedal  extremities  of  the 
average  New  Yorker  are  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to 
pause  for  a  "  shine  up,"  he,  nevertheless,  spends  a  good 
deal  of  his  time  on  his  knees.  He  is  a  suppliant  in 
attitude  only,  however,  and  will  toss  off  an  oath  when 
he  rises  from  his  pedal  devotions  that  would  raise  the 
hair  of  a  Water-street  desperado.  He  possesses  the 
same  enterprise  as  that  of  the  news-boy,  though  we 
have  always  ranked  him  lower  in  the  scale  of  human- 
ity than  the  former.    To  see  him  crouching  over  a  pair 


252  Beggars  and  Paupers. 


of  number  fifteen  brogans,  does  not  give  one  an  exalt- 
ed idea  of  the  character  of  his  business,  and  hence  he 
fails  to  inspire  the  respect  we  instinctively  accord  to 
the  newspaper  gamin. 

Some  piece  of  stupidity  has  said  that  a  profession 
dignifies  nobody,  that  it  is  the  man  that  dignifies  the 
calling — but  who  will  not  say  that  a  calling  is  in 
itself  dignified  or  otherwise  ?  To  say  that  the  corn- 
doctor,  who  explores  your  feet  to  find  a  corn  to  "  pick 
a  fuss "  with,  occupies  a  position  equal  in  respect  to 
the  lawyer  or  clergyman,  or  business  man,  is  nonsense, 
and  though  the  assertion  may  be  set  down  as  a  sop 
to  human  worthlessness,  it  is  contrary  to  the  feeling 
which  we  term  respect  in  the  human  animal. 

It  is  doubtless  in  obedience  to  this  impulse  that  the 
boot-black  mnst  be  content  to  stoop  to  conquer,  and 
conquer  he  does,  so  far  as  income  is  concerned,  it  being 
largely  in  excess  of  that  of  the  news-boy.  The  former 
has  another  advantage  in  the  fact  that  but  little  capital 
is  needed  after  his  first  outfit  of  brushes  and  polish, 
while  the  poor  news-boy  must  have  a  good  pocket-bank 
account  constantly  at  hand  for  his  daily  use  as  capital. 

The  boot-blacks  earn  from  $7  to  $12  per  week,  but 
it  is  doubtful  if  they  lay  by  at  its  close  much  more 
than  the  news-boy.  They  earn  their  money  easier,  and 
it  goes  as  it  comes.  But  we  must  nut  do  them  injus- 
tice, for  they  are  but  children  after  all:  the  point  we 
mean  to  make  as  to  the  quality  of  their  calling  is  just 
this,  that  it  inspires  the  same  amount  of  pity,  but  not 
an  equal  amount  in  respect  on  the  part  of  the  disin- 
terested beholder. 

On  the  other  hand,  his  temptations  are  far  greater 
and  mure  constant  than  those  of  other  business  gamins, 
i'ur  tiie  reason  that  having  more  money  to  spend,  and 


"Beggars  and  Paupers. 


253 


more  leisure  in  which  to  spend  it,  he  falls  into  out-of- 
the  way  places,  and  soon  learns  to  gamble  away  his 
earnings,  so  that  he  must  be  rated,  not  so  much  from 
what  he  naturally  is,  as  from  what  he  has  to  overcome 
in  the  way  of  temptation,  in  order  to  be  anywhere  at 
all  in  the  scale  of  existence. 

Business  rivalry  and  competition  is  much  closer  with 
these  than  with  any  other  of  the  working  gamins ; 
hence  the  contact  is  sharper,  and  in  the  struggle  they 
encounter  much  more  moral  as  well  as  physical  filth 
than  their  wiry,  shrewd  neighbors.  Their  compara- 
tively large  earnings,  together  with  their  habits  of 
lounging  abont,  leads  them  naturally  to  the  den  of  the 
thief  and  the  burglar,  so  that  they  often  become  the 
tool,  dupe,  or  accomplice  of  both.  The  percentage  of 
ultimate  success  in  reaching  a  decent  condition  in  life 
is  hence  far  less  than  that  of  any  other  working  street 
boy.  At  night,  for  want  of  a  better  place,  his  earn- 
ings are  squandered  in  gambling,  food  and  tobacco, 
and  he  drops  down  into  the  first  friendly  kennel  that 
offers  a  place  for  shelter. 

If  the  condition  of  these  is  deplorable,  what  must 
be  that  of  thousands  of  idle  outcasts  in  the  streets, 
who  earn  nothing  whatever,  but  pick  up  a  stray  penny 
now  and  then  from  the  hand  of  charity,  an  utterly  idle, 
lazy  set  of  vermin-covered  boy  vagabonds,  who  should 
never  be  allowed  to  run  in  the  streets,  and  who  are  at 
once  the  sediment  and  the  disgrace  of  our  humanity  \ 
All  day  long,  having  no  home  or  friends,  they  wander 
about  the  docks,  scudding  along  under  the  walls  of 
buildings  as  they  go,  to  keep  clear  of  the  police,  a 
miserable,  villainous  crew  as  ever  set  sail  upon  life's 
sea,  and  yet  we  never  find  time  to  ask  ourselves  how 
much  cheaper  it  would  be  to  take  care  of  them  now, 


254 


Beggars  and  Pauper* 


and  fit  them  for  honorable  places  in  the  future,  than 
to  look  after  them  years  hence,  when  their  depreda- 
tions upon  society  shall  have  sent  them  to  be  cared  for 
in  the  state  prison  or  the  reformatory. 

Why  we  should  wait  until  these  child-nomads  of 
the  street  mature  into  the  diseased  paupers  of  the 
slums,  with  every  native  energy  broken  down  bodily 
and  mentally,  all  power  of  recuperation  gone,  and  then 
take  the  wrecks  on  our  hands,  with  the  vain  hope  of 
making  them  self-sustaining,  it  is  difficult  to  see  ;  yet 
such  is  our  practice,  itself  another  illustration  of  our 
want  of  good  judgment  in  the  care  and  management 
of  our  refuse  population. 

A  country  so  rich  that  it  has  as  yet  no  peasant  class 
like  that  of  England,  would  be  able,  with  very  little 
trouble  or  expense,  to  put  this  non-producing  class  oi 
juvenile  pauperism  in  a  way  to  take  care  of  itself. 
Compared  with  that  product  of  centuries  of  serfdom, 
and  now  little  better  than  a  serf  as  he  stands  to-day 
powerless  in  the  grasp  of  the  British  landholder,  even 
the  gamin  is  his  superior  in  intelligence,  while  our 
lowest  native  farm  laborer  is  a  prince  in  comparison. 

Finally,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  estimate  we 
attach  to  these  waifs  will  derive  its  chief  significance 
and  value  from  the  experience  that  makes  it.  The 
large-hearted  man  of  the  world,  who  has  himself  toiled 
up  life's  steeps,  and  only  reached  the  summit  after 
many  years  of  unremitting  tug  and  pushing  away  of 
obstacles  that  seemed  to  him  insurmountable,  will 
look  with  k:ndly  eye  upon  these  child-delvers  of  the 
street,  who  like  himself  have  tugged,  and  with  infin- 
ite courage  and  good  nature,  along  their  whole  cheer- 
less way.  With  such  as  these,  the  contrast  will  al- 
ways be  on  the  side  of  the  gamin.    To  the  pet  of  for- 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


255 


tunc,  however,  the  reckoning  will  be  mostly  different. 
Never  having  known  the  want  or  value  of  a  dollar, 
and  never  having  earned  one,  it  may  be,  and  having 
never  known  a  want  that  was  not  either  anticipated  or 
answered  on  demand,  this  little  tatterdemalion  of  the 
slums  can  never  be  aught  but  a  disagreeable,  disgust- 
ing  fact,  forever  under  his  feet  as  he  takes  his  after- 
noon airing  on  the  fashionable  boulevard,  or  in  the 
park.    What  a  pity  that  his  sensitive  soul,  fitted  for 
nothing  save  the  most  refined  delights,  should  ever  be 
doomed  to  come  in  contact  with  anything  in  this 
world  that  could  offend  it.    It  must  be  a  wonder  to 
such  as  these,  the  glow-worms  of  our  social  life,  that 
the  good  Disposer  of  human  events  had  not  set  apart 
some  earthly  paradise  in  which  these  worthless,  but 
luminous  creatures,  could  have  spent  their  lives  in  one 
continuous,  phosphorescent  glow,  secure  from  aught 
that  could  vex  their  tender,  delicate  sensibilities.  But 
here  they  are,  and  it  would  seem  that  so  long  as  they 
remain  in  this  lower  sphere  of  ours,  they  must  expect 
to  be  shocked  with  the  presence  of  people  who  are  not 
only  poor  and  destitute,  but  ragged  and  penniless, 
and  who,  fallen  creatures  that  they  are,  would  never 
see  through  the  mists  that  shroud  their  sunless  lives  a 
hand  outstretched  from  any  of  these.    It  is  pleasant, 
nevertheless,  to  think  that  Avhen  the  vast  network 
which  envelops  our  civilization  comes  to  be  overhauled, 
the  gamin  in  our  streets  will  be  found  not  only  as  pal- 
pable a  reality  within  it  as  any  other,  and  it  may  not 
be  a  pleasant  matter  for  contemplation  in  that  supreme 
moment  that  in  the  mad  race  for  success,  manhood 
and   well-to-do   thrift   and   independence  was  run- 
ning, neither  stopped  long  enough  to  extend  a  help:ng 
hand  to  the  little  homeless,  fatherless  and  friendless 


250 


Beggars  and  Paupers. 


gamin,  but  left  him  with  the  odds  all  in  their  own 
favor,  to  tight  his  way  unaided  and  alone.  As  we  run 
over  in  our  memory  the  many  bright,  even  happy 
faces,  in  spite  of  their  destitution,  of  these  children 
as  we  have  talked  with  them  while  on  our  own  way 
through  the  dark  places  of  our  city,  we  cannot  but 
think  that,  when  the  final  account  comes  to  be  made 
up,  the  books  posted,  and  the  rewards  distributed, 
when  for  once  all  the  differences  that  caste  or  fortune,  ill 
or  otherwise  brings,  are  set  aside,  and  each  of  us  stands 
out  to  be  taken  for  just  what  he  is  worth  in  himself, 
the  gamin,  for  whom  this  plea  has  been  lovingly  made, 
will  stand  high  among  the  highest,  in  the  presence  of 
the  great  Judge  of  all  things  mortal  and  immortal. 


% 


V 


CHAPTER  VI. 


FOOD  POISONERS. 

The  remark  that  we  are  a  nation  of  dyspeptics,  lia3 
been  so  long  and  so  often  reiterated,  we  have  come  to 
look  upon  it  as  a  mere  truism,  and  the  evil  itself  as 
one  without  remedy.  The  same  cannot  be  said  of  any 
other  people,  and  if  true  of  us,  there  must  be  some 
underlying  causes  for  a  malady  so  general  that  it 
would  be  well  for  the  health  of  the  nation  to  discover. 
The  faces  of  seven  out  of  every  ten  persons  one  meets 
of  either  sex  of  adult  age,  tell  unmistakably  the  old 
story  of  indigestion.  In  our  groat  cities,  where  over- 
work among  workers  of  every  class  except  the  mechani- 
cal, is  the  rule,  dyspepsia  is  so  common  a  complaint, 
that  it  passes  unnoticed  almost,  the  sufferer  from  the 
first  appearance  of  it  counting  it  among  the  ills  induced 
by  climatic  changes  or  climatic  severity,  surrenders  at 
discretion,  and  goes  thence  growling  and  groaning  by 
turns  through  life,  a  burden  to  himself  and  a  bore  to 
his  friends. 

The  Sexton  in  Hamlet,  consigns  the  mad  prince  for 
a  cure  to  a  place  where  "  they  are  all  as  mad  as  he," 
and  the  denizen  of  another  clime,  anxious  to  be  in- 
noculated  with  our  national  disease,  has  only  to  come 
and  remain  with  us  a  year  or  so,  to  come  out  a  full- 
blown, confirmed  dyspeptic,  and  by  this  declension, 
should  he  remain  long  enough  with  us,  would  be  able 
to  go  back  home  so  thoroughly  confirmed  a  hypochou 


25S  Food  Poisoners. 

driae,  that  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  living  with 
him  forever  afterward. 

That  peculiarities  of  climate  and  hard  mental  labor 
are  not  the  only  causes  of  this  difficulty  is  certain,  for 
the  American  farmer,  who  ought  to  be  the  very 
soundest  of  men,  the  man  above  all  others  of  whom 
it  should  be  said,  mens  sana  in  corjpore  scmo,  is  almost 
as  often  found  with  a  set  of  weak  digestives,  as  his 
city  brother.  What  is  the  matter,  then,  if  indeed,  as 
we  think  is  true,  climate  is  not  to  be  charged  with  the 
bulk  of  our  dyspeptic  sins  ?  Is  the  immoderate  use  of 
tobacco  an  underlying  cause  ?  Doubtless  it  is,  for 
tobacco  is  one  of  the  narcotic  poisons  that  cannot  with- 
out danger  to  the  human  stomach  and  economy,  be 
used  to  excess.  Alcohol  is  a  poison,  but  perhaps  not 
more  injurious  to  health,  or  so  much,  if  moderately 
used,  as  tobacco  itself. 

Putting  together  all  the  stimulants,  adding  over- 
work in  all  directions  in  general,  ignorance  of  hygienic 
laws,  bad  cooking,  and  other  kindred  causes,  and  we 
still  find  ourselves  unable  to  account  for  one-half  the 
digestive  horrors  that  afflict  us  as  a  nation. 

Should  a  confirmed  old  tea-drinker,  her  cuticle 
reduced  to  an  olive  hue,  digestion  gone,  and  her  nerves 
shaky  and  uncertain,  be  told  that  the  decoction  of 
which  she  drinks  a  quart  or  more  a  day,  is  comprised, 
one  part  of  old  tea-leaves,  another  of  toood  shavings, 
the  whole  mixture  cured  and  colored  to  the  tea-tint, 
by  running  it  through  a  solution  of  the  most  deadly 
poisons,  she  would  either  be  incredulous,  and  cling  to 
her  favorite  beverage,  or  else,  convinced  of  the  truth 
of  the  statement,  toss  her  tea-urn  out  at  the  window, 
with  what  nerve  still  was  left  to  her,  and  betake  her- 
self to  cold  water.    Nevertheless  the  statement  is  true 


Food  Poisoners. 


259 


in  every  particular,  as  we  shall  proceed  to  show  by 
facts  that  cannot  be  disputed. 

As  a  preliminary  to  what  we  are  about  to  state,  it  is 
proper  to  say  that  the  supposition  that  there  is  scarcely 
an  article  of  food  that  we  put  in  our  mouths  in  the 
way  of  manufactured  articles,  that  is  not  adulterated 
in  some  way,  is  literally  true.  To  what  extent  this 
business  is  carried  on,  and  with  what  effect  upon  the 
public  health,  are  the  questions  we  shall  discuss  in 
this  chapter.  In  Europe,  and  especially  in  England, 
adulteration  of  food  was  carried  on  for  years  to  such 
an  extent  that  public  attention  was  called  to  the  mat- 
ter, and  a  Commission  appointed  with  subordinate 
boards  throughout  the  United  Kingdom.  The  result, 
as  shown  by  tests  and  examinations,  was  absolutely 
appalling,  and  confirmed  fully  all  that  had  been  sus- 
pected. The  same  state  of  things  formerly  existed 
upon  the  Continent,  but  they  manage  things  of  this 
sort  better  than  we  do,  and  have  succeeded  in  placing 
the  whole  business  of  food  poisoning  under  an  effective 
local  supervision,  making  it  in  certain  cases  a  penal 
offense,  precisely  what  it  should  be  made  everywhere. 

Competition  in  trade  and  the  cupidity  of  dealers 
and  manufacturers  lie  at  the  bottom  of  what  has  now 
become  not  a  petty  swindle  merely,  but  a  crime. 
When  the  whole  subject  of  food  poisoning  shall  come 
before  our  people  in  proper  shape,  so  that  what  we  eat 
and  drink  shall  be  ascertained  by  analysis,  carefully 
and  accurately  made,  wTe  shall  ask  ourselves  how  it  is 
that  a  swindle  so  general,  should  have  been  allowed 
such  free  course,  and  for  so  long  a  period.  The  answer 
to  this  will  be,  that  this  among  many  other  important 
matters  relative  to  the  general  health,  have  hitherto 
received  but  little  attention,  because  we  are  in  the  first 


260  Food  Poisoners. 

place  indifferent  to  what  we  deem  petty  matters,  and 
have  not  vet  had  the  time  to  look  after  the  character 
of  the  stuff  we  put  in  our  stomachs,  or  its  effect  upon 
our  health. 

But,  as  this,  happily  for  those  who  wish  to  reform 
their  kitchens,  is  the  day  of  investigations  into  all 
sorts  of  things,  this  of  what  we  eat  and  drink  comes 
in  for  a  share  of  attention.  In  several  of  our  large 
cities,  boards  of  health  have  taken  hold  of  the  matter 
in  good  earnest,  and  with  the  best  results.  Analyses 
and  tests  have  been  made  with  results  already  attained, 
showing  that  the  worst  has  not  been  even  apprehended. 
Strange  to  say,  however,  and  by  way  of  showing  how 
liable  we  are  to  be  misled  in  a  matter  of  this  sort, 
the  article  of  sugar,  which  we  have  long  suspected  of 
being  made  up  in  part  of  white  sand,  flour,  bone-dust 
and  even  other  substances  deleterious  to  health,  turns 
out  to  be  absolutely  pure,  at  least  it  is  so  found  in 
tests  made  in  Boston,  Brooklyn  and  other  cities,  and 
hence  the  supposition  that  it  is  the  same  elsewmere. 

In  the  matter  of  tea  already  mentioned,  the  case  is 
quite  different ;  indeed  it  appears  doubtful,  in  view 
of  the  tests  made,  whether  such  an  article  as  pure  tea 
can  be  found  at  any  retail  store  in  the  country.  So 
scarce  is  the  real  article,  that  it  has  become  like 
Gratiano's  grain  of  wheat,  hid  in  two  bushels  of  chaff. 
You  shall  search  all  day  ere  you  find  it,  and  after  you 
have  found  it,  it  proves  not  worth  the  search.  It  is 
a  common  remark  among  those  who  purchase  this 
article  in  small  quantities  of  the  retailer,  that  the 
price  paid  is  no  indication  of  the  quality,  indeed 
the  higher  the  price  the  poorer  the  quality,  is  often 
the  ease,  so  that  the  more  shrewd,  and  we  will  add 
sensible  buyers,  abandon  the  idea  of  getting  either  a 


Food  Poisoners. 


261 


pure  or  a  decent  article  even,  and  pay  the  smallest 
price  on  the  ground  of  economy. 

Nothing  is  more  delicious  in  its  effect  upon  the 
tired  or  rasped  nerves,  than  a  cup  of  real  "  Oolong  " 
or  "  Young  Hyson but  if  one  in  these  days  of  de- 
coctions that  pass  for  tea,  were  to  depend  upon  his 
nerve  to  procure  it,  he  would  speedily  become  nerve- 
less in  the  pursuit.  There  is  good  reason  to  believe 
that  in  a  climate  like  our  own,  in  which  pure  tea  of 
good  quality  has  come  to  be  a  necessity,  that  the 
spurious,  poisonous  article,  manufactured,  not  grown, 
here,  on  our  shores,  will  have  to  go  to  the  wall,  and 
the  pure  article  come  again  into  general  use.  The  fol- 
lowing, among  many  other  facts  that  can  be  adduced, 
will  serve  to  show  the  ground  of  this  belief. 

There  is  at  this  moment,  in  Brooklyn,  ~N.  Y.,  in 
successful  operation,  a  large  factory  devoted  exclusively 
to  the  manufacture  of  tea.  The  popular  notion  has 
been,  that  tea  is  a  plant,  or  shrub,  from  which  alone 
the  real  article  could  be  gathered,  but  Yankee  in- 
genuity, equal  to  any  emergency,  was  not  to  be  out- 
done in  this  direction,  and  so  it  set  itself  vigorously 
at  work  to  produce  an  imitation  that  would  defy  de- 
tection, and  so  long  as  it  confined  itself  to  the  work  of 
renovating  old  tea  leaves  and  palming  them  off  for  the 
first  yield  of  the  fragrant  plant,  all  went  on  smoothly 
enough,  but  in  an  evil  hour,  moved  thereto  by  the 
laudable  desire  for  a  large  profit,  wood  shavings  were 
introduced  into  this  Brooklyn  factory,  and  thence 
smuggled  into  the  tea  formerly  made  of  old  leaves. 
One  would  naturally  suppose  that  the  making  of  the 
old  leaf-tea  would  have  proved  a  pretty  severe  strain 
upon  an  ordinary  conscience,  but  not  so.  The  business 
turned  out  a  profitable  one,  and  thus  proved  a  plaster 


« 


2G2 


Food  Poisoners. 


sufficient  to  draw  this  innate  faculty  up  to  the  required 
standard  of  approval. 

The  process  adopted  in  this  model  factory  is  as  fol- 
lows :  Saws  of  peculiar  construction  are  used  in  pro- 
ducing a  shaving  of  wood,  which  when  curled  01 
twisted  tightly  up,  resembles  very  nearly  a  leaf  of  tea. 
These  shavings,  mixed  with  the  old  leaves,  are  put 
into  a  vat,  in  which  is  also  placed  a  small  proportion 
of  good  tea  of  the  flavor  desired.  The  mixture  con- 
tains one-third  of  each.  It  is  then  dyed  ;  this  is  neces- 
sary to  produce  the  ultimate  death  of  the  drinker,  we 
suppose,  and  doctored  with  chemicals  and  drugs,  so 
that  in  color  and  appearance,  it  could  not  be  told  from 
the  real  article.  The  flavor  of  it,  however,  discovers 
its  real  character  to  the  most  indelicate  taster.  It  has 
a  peculiar  pungency,  and  is  an  astringent  of  the  worst 
sort ;  it  is  nothing,  in  short,  but  a  slow  though  sure 
poison.  It  seems  incredible  that  any  person,  claiming 
to  be  a  merchant  of  respectability,  could  commit  such 
a  crime  upon  an  unoffending  community  as  this,  yet 
such  is  the  case,  and  one  which  illustrates  what  even 
respectability  will  do  in  order  to  line  its  pockets  with 
ill-gotten  gains.    But  this  is  only  a  beginning. 

Take  another  case,  that  of  cream-a-tartar,  an  article 
of  such  necessary  and  common  use  in  cooking,  that  it 
would  be  almost  impossible  to  estimate  the  amount  of  it 
used  in  a  single  year  in  this  city  alone,  and  yet  so  little 
does  the  compound  we  buy  for  cream-a-tartar  resemble 
the  real  article,  that  a  pound  of  the  latter  going  into 
a  kitchen  anywhere  now,  would  open  the  eyes  of  the 
most  inexperienced  cook.  The  vile  mixture  sold  for 
this  staple,  is  a  compound  in  which  terra  alba — white 
clay,  or  earth,  forms  in  some  cases  eighty  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  mixture.    This  powder  is  an  insoluble  poison, 


Food  Poisoners. 


203 


and  yet  six  millions  of  pounds  of  it  are  brought  to  this 
country  every  year,  every  particle  of  which  goes  into 
our  stomachs  under  the  name  of  cream-a-tartar.  The 
price  of  this  article  depends  in  the  main  upon  the 
amount  which  it  contains  of  the  powder,  which  ranges 
from  twenty-five  to  eighty  per  cent. 

The  Board  of  Health  of  the  city  of  ~Ncv?  York 
recently  caused  one  hundred  samples  of  cream-a-tartar 
to  be  purchased,  one  each  at  as  many  retail  and  small 
groceries,  with  the  following  result :  Every  one  of 
them  contained  sixty  per  cent,  of  this  poison,  and 
some  of  them  eighty  per  cent.  This  test  shows  that 
among  grocers,  no  pure  cream-a-tartar  is  sold.  The 
cost  of  terra  alba  delivered  here  is  about  $17  per  ton, 
a  mere  bagatelle  compared  with  the  cost  of  the  pure 
article,  and  hence  the  great  difference  in  prices.  It 
seems  amazing  that  a  swindle  so  palpable  as  this  should 
be  permitted  to  thrive  under  our  eyes,  and  no  effort 
put  forth  to  suppress  it. 

Take  another,  a  little  outside  of  the  ordinary  cases  of 
food  adulteration,  though  one  continually  connected 
with  our  kitchen  economy.  It  is  a  fact  not  generally 
known  that  the  most  costly  and  delicate  perfumes  are 
no  longer  distilled  as  formerly  from  the  flowers  from 
which  they  are  named,  or  rather  misnamed,  but  are 
made  up  from  certain  oils  as  a  base,  by  a  trick  of  the 
chemist's  art.  Fusil  oil,  a  most  offensive  substance, 
found  in  the  manufacture  of  brandy  or  whisky,  is  used 
with  sulphuric  acid  and  other  chemicals  to  produce  the 
oil  of  apples,  pears,  grapes,  bitter  almonds,  pineapples, 
etc.  So  perfect  is  the  imitation,  that  it  can  scarcely  be 
distinguished  from  the  oils  distilled  from  the  fruits 
themselves.  The  jellies  we  purchase  at  the  groceries 
are  largely  flavored  with  these  oils,  being  in  reality 


264 


Food  Poisoners. 


not  jellies  at  all,  but  gelatine,  flavored  with  the 
extracts  named,  not  a  particle  of  fruit  being  used  in 
the  compounds.  They  taste  just  as  well,  and  being  a 
good  deal  cheaper,  why  should  the  user  stop  to  inquire 
precisely  what  effect  fusil  oil  has  upon  the  human 
stomach  and  digestion. 

The  careful  housewife,  who  still  clings  to  the  notion 
that  apple  or  pineapple  jelly,  made  from  the  fruit  with 
her  own  hands,  is  a  purer  article,  and  more  palatable 
and  healthy  than  that  made  of  fusil  oil  and  old  bones, 
will  soon  be  driven  to  succumb  to  the  new-fangled 
imitations. 

Hamlet,  satirizing  science,  while  quizzing  old 
Polonius  in  the  play,  closes  his  brief  lecture  to  that 
curious  old  gentleman,  by  the  sage  remark  that  to  fol- 
low too  closely  the  dust  of  the  great  Alexander,  would 
be  to  find  it  at  last  "  stopping  a  bunghole."  "  That 
were  curious  enough,"  says  Polonius,  and  we  think  he 
was  right.  A  too  deep  scrutiny  into  such  matters  is 
not  always  attended  with  the  happiest,  or  most  agree- 
able results. 

What  could  be  more  absurd  than  for  a  guest  at  a 
first-class  hotel,  who  places  the  slightest  value  upon 
his  comfort  while  partaking  of  its  hospitality,  to 
observe  too  closely  the  colored  waiter  who  wipes  the 
"  clean  plate  "  that  he  hands  you,  with  the  napkin  or 
towel  that  he  has  used  industriously  for  two  or  three 
days  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his  ebony  forehead, 
or  which  has  been  wound  around  his  neck  while  his 
arms  were  folded  waiting  an  order.  Who  would  care 
to  dine,  even  at  Delmonico's,  if  one  were  doomed,  as  a 
penalty,  to  overlook  the  preparation  of  his  dinner  in 
the  murky  laboratory  in  the  basement  ?  With  a  few 
rare  exceptions  in  the  cases  of  some  old-fashioned 


Food  Poisoners. 


265 


coots,  who  have  still  original  notions  of  cleanliness  in 
kitchen  and  cookery,  we  seem,  instead  of  improving  in 
this  regard,  to  be  approaching  a  point,  at  which  in 
hotels  at  least,  it  will  be  best  to  remain  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  the  profound  mysteries  of  the  cuisine, 
and  "  eat  what  is  set  before  us,  asking  no  questious  for 
conscience  sake." 

Curiosity  of  the  prying  sort  is  not  a  pleasant  or 
profitable  quality  in  these  days  of  shams  and  cheap 
imitations.  If  we  continue  to  go  on  at  the  present 
rate  in  matters  involving  mutations  and  transmuta- 
tions, to  say  nothing  of  transformations,  the  world  will 
soon  be  turned  inside  out,  and  each  of  us  will  be  found 
running  wildly  about  the  streets  inquiring  what's 
what,  and  who's  who,  an  absurd  sort  of  inquiry  it  is 
true,  but  which  in  the  general  confusion  and  chaos 
may  be  necessary,  in  order  to  preserve  our  identity. 
What  a  horrible,  appalling  thought  that  a  man  should 
leave  his  domicile  in  the  morning  as  James  or  John, 
and  come  back  in  the  evening  as  Ichabod  or  Nico- 
demus,  and  yet  to  this  complexion  shall  we  come  at 
last,  if  there  be  not  speedily  some  check  placed  upon 
this  business  of  wholesale  imitation  of  everything  on 
earth,  in  the  air,  and  in  the  waters  under  the  earth. 

You  step  into  a  druggist's  for  a  glass  of  Vichy,  or 
Kissengen,  and  he  pours  down  your  throat  without 
the  slightest  compunction  or  qualm  of  conscience,  a 
base  imitation  of  the  real  water,  manufactured  by  his 
own  hand  and  in  his  own  cellar.  Anon  you  feel 
moving  within  you  those  grand  life-giving  inspirations 
which  only  the  water  from  the  most  celebrated  Ger- 
man spas  can  give.  It  is  laid  down  as  a  fact  among 
the  knowing  ones  in  this  fraud  of  food  adulteration, 
that  there  is  not  an  article  of  manufactured  or  pre- 


206 


Food  Poisoners. 


pared  food  that  we  indulge,  that  is  not  m  some  way 
adulterated.    Even  the  comb  of  honey,  so  tempting  to 
tiie  palate  of  those  who  indulge  in  sweets,  may  be 
tilled  after  the  bee  deposits  have  been  removed,  with 
a  decoction  that  very  nearly  resembles  the  distilled 
sweetness  of  the  clover  field  itself.    The  jar  of  pickles 
upon  your  table  contains  an  acid  so  powerful,  and  so 
fatal  to  health,  that  the  pickle  itself  soon  loses  its  cool 
crispiness,  and  becomes  a  soft  mess  that  crumbles  at 
the  touch.    The  pickles  our  grandmothers  made  were 
not  of  this  sort ;  but  then  our  grandmothers  conde- 
scended to  grace  the  kitchen  in  those  days,  and  their 
daughters  were  early  instructed  in  the  then  simple, 
but  proper  ways  of  preparing  a  palatable  repast.  How 
far  the  base  imitations  and  adulterations  with  which 
we  are  poisoned  in  these  days,  may  be  traced  to  the 
growing  disgust  of  the  mothers  and  daughters  of  the 
present  generation  for  the  kitchen,  it  is  extremely  dif- 
ficult to  conjecture,  but  it  is  certain  that  the  habit  that 
prevails  of  leaving  this  home  department,  and  all  that 
pertains  to  it,  to  the  management  of  incompetent  and 
careless  servants,  has  made  the  demand  for  cheap, 
manufactured  food,  so  great  and  constant,  that  the 
ingenuity  of  the  country  is  taxed  to  the  utmost  to 
supply  it,  and  rather  than  be  subjected  to  the  trouble 
of  preparing  it  at  home,  a  lady  will  submit  to  any  im- 
position in  price  or  quality.    With  all  our  smartness, 
we  have  not  yet  learned  the  extent  to  which  the 
pleasures  of  the  table  may  be  carried,  and  that,  too,  with 
a  due  regard  to  economy.   The  result  must  come,  how- 
ever, from  one  of  two  sources,  trained  servants,  or  in 
the  absence  of  these,  through  the  experience  and  the 
personal  supervision  of  the  female  head  of  the  house- 
hold.   Where  wealth  is  ample,  the  difficulty  is  easily 


Food  Poisoners,  267 

overcome,  but  in  the  absence  of  it,  every-day  manage- 
ment of  house  and  table  can  alone  make  a  household 
what  every  household  should  be. 

The  lady  who  is  indifferent  to  the  pleasure  derived 
from  a  well-cooked  meal,  however  plain  and  simple — 
and  the  simpler  it  is,  and  the  fewer  luxuries  or  dainties 
it  boasts,  the  greater  the  need  of  patient  work  in  its 
preparation — is  not  fit  to  preside  over  a  home,  for  a 
home  cannot  be  called  such  in  which  execrable  cook- 
ing, or  bad  food,  is  the  rule.  At  all  events,  a  simple 
meal,  deliciously  cooked,  so  that  one  rises  from  it  with 
a  sweet  sense  of  gustatory  satisfaction,  is  by  no  means 
an  impossibility  in  any  family  of  ordinary  means,  and 
what  is  more,  it  may  be  prepared  by  one  who  is  in  no 
way  deficient  in  the  graces  of  manner  and  conversation 
that  render  life  attractive  and  delightful  outside  of  the 
kitchen. 

The  best  business  men  are  those  who  have  been 
trained  to  business,  and  who  have  brought  energy,  edu- 
cation, discipline,  and  hard  work  to  its  management, 
and  we  fail  to  discover  anything  degrading  in  the  fact 
that  a  highly  educated  and  cultivated  man  has  added 
these  to  a  life  of  business,  and  it  is  a  rule  in  social  life 
that  the  most  agreeable  men  one  meets  are  those  who 
combine  this  knowledge  of  life  and  its  affairs,  this  per- 
fect knowledge  of  the  world,  with  the  graces  of  refined 
taste  and  agreeable  manners. 

It  is  most  marvelous,  that  in  the  matter  of  food,  its 
preparation  for  use  as  a  means,  not  only  of  life,  but  of 
health,  we  are  even  yet,  in  spite  of  our  boasted  refine- 
ment, both  ignorant  and  indifferent  to  a  degree  that 
is  almost  criminal.  Think  of  gorging  ourselves  with 
powdered  clay  in  place  of  a  simple  healthful  ar- 
ticle that  enters  into  every-day  use  in  every  family  of 


2G8 


Food  Poisoners. 


the  land  as  in  the  case  of  cream-a- tartar.  How  com- 
placently the  larger  proportion  of  us  receive  from  the 
hands  of  an  equally  innocent  grocery  the  package 
of  "  pure  Java,"  which  is  no  Java  at  all,  but  only  a 
mixture  of  roasted  beans  and  peas,  flavored  with  ever- 
present — in  ground  coffee — chickory  and  rye,  which 
some  parsimonious  house-keepers  say  is  better  than 
either  the  Maracaibo  or  Java  bean.  Ginger  is  largely 
mixed  with  corn  meal,  which  accounts  for  the  differ- 
ence in  quantity  required  for  use,  as  the  amount  of 
the  latter  is  greater  or  less  in  the  compound.  Buck- 
wheat bran,  a  very  harmless  substance,  forms  one  of 
the  ingredients  in  pepper,  and  indeed  it  may  be  said 
that  all  ground  spices  are  adulterated,  which  accounts 
for  the  fact  that  the  vender  prefers  to  sell  the  latter, 
his  profits  on  these  being  far  greater  by  reason  of  their 
cheapness. 

As  to  confectionery,  the  result  of  the  most  searching 
tests  and  experiments  that  have  been  made,  the  results 
being  the  same  in  various  localities,  showing  the  adul- 
teration to  be  general,  is  simply  appalling.  We  are  a 
nation  of  sugar  eaters.  Confectionery  in  every  con- 
ceivable shape,  however  nasty  or  poisonous  in  its 
make-up,  is  gobbled  up  with  an  avidity  known  only  to 
the  most  morbid  and  depraved  appetites.  The  more 
highly  colored  and  pungent  the  article,  the  greater  the 
amount  that  can  be  sold.  This  coloring  matter,  which 
enters  so  largely  into  the  composition  of  confectionery 
for  children,  is,  in  almost  every  case,  a  deadly  poison. 
Children's  toys  especially  are  rarely  ever  fit  to  be 
eaten.  It  would  seem  that  the  confectioners,  through 
ignorance,  or  cupidity,  the  moral  element  of  the  nio:ive 
being  the  same  in  either  case,  have  determined  to  de- 
stroy the  stomachs  of  all  the  juveniles  in  the  country, 


Food  Poisoners, 


269 


in  order  that  the  morbid  craving  for  their  wares,  grow- 
ing  by  what  it  feeds  on,  will  in  time  reduce  the  stom- 
achs of  young  and  old  to  the  same  level  of  indigestion, 
and  so  render  them  fit  receptacles  for  little  else  than 
sweet  tit-bits. 

The  yellow-colored  candies,  so  tempting  to  the  eye 
of  babydom,  and  of  older  ones  as  well,  is  usually  sul- 
phide of  antimony.  Any  chemist  will  tell  you  that  a 
snfall  dose  of  this  operates  as  an  emetic,  while  a  large 
quantity,  taken  in  the  stomach,  would  result  in  poison- 
ing. In  many  kinds  of  confectionery  in  common,  daily 
use,  copper,  lead,  arsenic,  and  other  poisons,  are  found 
mixed  with  that  of  sulphide  of  antimony,  a  fact  that 
should  be  sufficiently  startling  to  those  having  the  care 
of  children.  Four  well-defined  poisons  in  a  single 
stick  of  candy,  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  contemplate, 
however  agreeable  they  may  be  to  the  taste. 

Recent  tests  show  that  nearly  all  the  white  candies 
sold  are  made  largely  of  plaster  of  paris  or  alum.  The 
blue,  so  pleasant  to  the  eye  in  confectionery,  is  usually 
Prussian  blue,  a  rank  poison,  so  is  the  green,  which  is 
produced  from  a  solution  of  copper  and  arsenic.  The 
reds  are  of  vermilion,  with  mercury  for  a  base.  It  is 
doubtful  if  such  a  thing  as  absolutely  pure  confection 
ery  can  be  found,  except  the  "  taffy,"  made  in  our  own 
kitchens.  If  you  appeal  to  the  seller  of  these  poisons, 
so  attractively  done  up,  for  an  explanation,  he  will  tell 
you  that  vegetable  coloring  matter  cannot  be  obtained, 
and  hence  the  resort  to  poisonous  minerals.  Buyers 
will  have  the  stuff,  and  if  we  cannot  produce  it  in  a 
harmless  way,  we  must  do  it  in  some  other.  When 
questioned  as  to  the  substitutes  used  in  place  of  pure 
sugar  in  their  villainous  business,  the  old  story  of  com- 
petition, and  the  public  craving  tor  the  largest  quanti- 


270 


Food  Poisoners. 


ty  possible,  at  the  cheapest  rate,  is  offered  in  explana- 
tion. Could  the  ills  of  old  and  young,  caused,  directly 
by  the  use  of  this  atrocious  stuff  be  ascertained,  it 
would  either  shut  up  every  confectionery  house  in  our 
great  cities,  or  compel  them  to  make  a  purer  article. 
^<>  discrimination  should  be  made  in  this  whole  vile 
business.  The  expensive,  creamy,  delicious  confec- 
tionery from  the  most  extensively  patronized  houses  on 
Broadway,  are  equally  impure  with  the  French  con- 
fections made  in  the  side  streets. 

That  the  profits  in  this  business  are  sufficient  to  en- 
able the  makers  to  furnish  a  pure  article,  was  demon- 
strated in  the  fact  that,  a  few  years  ago,  two  or  three 
firms  commenced  the  manufacture  of  fine  confectionery 
in  Wooster  street,  selling  an  equally  pure  article  at 
half  the  Broadway  prices,  and  the"  result  was  a  sale  of 
all  that  they  had  facilities  for  making.  While  some 
check  is  placed  upon  the  druggist  to  prevent  him  from 
killing  his  own  customers  with  carelessly  prepared  pre- 
scriptions, the  confectioners  are  allowed  carte  blanche 
in  the  work  of  wholesale  poisoning,  killing  their 
customers,  not  outright,  but  by  a  process  that  requires 
years  to  complete  the  work,  without  suspicion  of  foul 
play.  We  have  put  the  case  of  the  venders  of  sweet 
things  in  the  most  pointed  way,  in  order  that  the  pub- 
lic may  understand  just  what  they  get  in  return  for 
their  money  at  these  most  tempting,  but  health  de- 
stroying shops. 

From  tests  made  of  ale  and  beer  in  several  localities 
at  the  same  time,  the  results  were  different.  In  the 
West  and  South-west,  whiskey  and  ales  are  largely 
mixed  with  pernicious  matter,  in  order  to  ffive  them 
pungency  to  suit  the  blunted  palate  of  the  drinkers  in 
these  localities.    In  Boston,  water  only  is  used  to  re- 


Food  Poisoners. 


271 


duce  whiskey  to  a  point  fit  for  the  Puritan  stomach. 
It  would  seem  that  a  section  that  still  clings  to  elec- 
tion, predestination,  the  final  perseverance  of  the  saint, 
and  the  general  immolation  of  unbaptised  infants,  ought 
to  be  able  to  take  its  whiskey  "  straight "  and  without 
adulteration  of  any  sort,  but  this  fact  proves  we  are 
all  mortal,  and  that  the  Puritan  stomach,  at  least,  is  a 
little  weaker  than  any  other,  a  circumstance  which  ac- 
counts satisfactorily  for  the  morbid  power  of  its  will. 

English  ales  are  largely  adulterated  with  a  variety 
of  pernicious  adulterants.  Caramel,  or  burnt  sugar, 
coculus-Indicus,  foots,  grains  of  paradise,  liquorice, 
quassia,  picric  acid,  tobacco,  sulphate  of  iron,  and 
salt,  are  all  largely  used,  often  all  of  these  in  the  same 
brewing.  Caramel  and  liquorice  are  added  to  porter 
to  give  it  body  and  the  dark  color  needed  to  give  it 
the  appearance  of  strength  after  dilution  by  water. 
The  bitter  taste  of  both  the  London  and  American 
manufacture  comes  from  the  use  of  large  quantities  of 
picric  acid  and  quassia.  Its  power  to  intoxicate  is 
derived  from  grains  of  paradise,  tobacco,  and  coculus- 
Indicus.  All  these  ingredients  help  to  conceal  the 
fraudulent  dilutions  in  both  ale  and  porter.  American 
manufacturers  of  malt  liquors  say  their  ales  and  por- 
ters are  comparatively  free  from  these  English  adul- 
terants, and  as  the  tests  thus  far  made  have  been  in- 
sufficient to  show  a  contrary  state  of  things,  we  give 
them  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  matter  of  examinations  and  tests  of  intoxicating 
beverages  of  every  sort,  will  soon  be  made  as  general 
with  us  as  have  those  across  the  water,  and  with  tho 
same  beneficial  results. 

A  hand-book  that  would  furnish  every  consumei 
with  the  means  of  detecting  thjsc  adulterants  in  food 


272 


Food  Poisoners, 


and  drink  would  bo  invaluable.  Armed  with  this, 
both  the  dealer  and  customer  would  have  in  his  pos- 
session the  means  of  ready  detection,  and  thus  free 
himself  from  imposition  and  fraud.  The  English  tests 
recently  made  of  food  adulteration  have  been  most 
exhaustive,  and  show  the  practice  to  be  not  only  gen- 
eral, but  to  an  extent  that  is  almost  incredible.  The 
few  tests  made  within  the  last  two  years  in  this  coun- 
try, reveal  the  same  deplorable  state  of  things,  so  that 
the  following  may  be  set  down  as  a  tolerably  accurate 
table  of  adulterants  for  both  countries.  In  the  matter 
of  wheat  and  other  flours,  however,  the  English  adul- 
terers have  gone  far  beyond  us,  the  cost  and  scarcity 
of  these  staples  being  far  less  here  than  with  them. 
Wheat  flour  is  often  found  mixed  with  beans,  potato, 
and  chestnut  flour,  and  not  unfrequently  with  bone- 
dust,  clay,  plaster  of  paris,  alum,  and  sulphate  of  cop- 
per, the  two  latter  ingredients  are  introduced  into 
bread  to  give  whiteness  to  an  inferior  grade  of  flour. 

BUTTER. 

In  England,  and  on  the  Continent,  the  adulteration 
of  butter  has  been  reduced  to  a  science,  but,  unluckily 
for  the  consumer,  it  is  a  reduction  that  adds  to  the 
profits  of  the  dealer.  Pecent  experiments  made  by 
Prof.  Acherly,  of  Preston,  show  that  English  butter, 
put  up  for  market,  sometimes  contains  silicate  of  sodium, 
chloride  of  calcium,  starch,  mashed  potatoes,  flour, 
cheese,  stuff,  rag-pulp,  gelatine,  beef  and  mutton  suet, 
and  various  other  fats,  both  animal  and  vegetable. 
Sodium  is  added  to  give  it  weight,  with  the  appear- 
ance of  lightness,  the  other  adulterants  tell  their  own 
story,  and  it  is  certainly  not  a  very  creditable  one  to 
dealers.  Nearly  all  these  are  found  in  American  but- 
ter, and  especially  the  article  called  "  Western  butter," 


Food  Poisoners. 


273 


a  good  deal  of  which  is  manufactured  in  New  York, 
from  an  inferior  article  made  in  the  Middle  States. 
JRancid  and  stale  butter,  that  no  cook  would  tolerate 
for  cooking  butter  even,  can  be  so  renovated  that  it 
readily  passes  in  the  market  for  the  prime  article. 
The  process  of  renovation  is  very  simple  and  inex- 
pensive, being  nothing  more  than  running  the  whole 
mass  through  a  wash  of  permanganite  of  potassium. 
Salt,  which  in  fresh  butter  should  never  exceed  six 
per  cent.,  is  often  found  to  be  eight  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  mixture.  Butter  that  melts  at  a  low  tempera- 
ture, is  invariably  adulterated  with  the  fat  of  meats. 
It  requires  a  microscope  to  discover  rag-pulp  and  flour, 
or  potatoes,  but  this  means  will  reveal  the  linen  and 
cotton  fibres  so  plainly  as  not  to  be  mistaken.  Lard, 
from  its  crystaline  appearance,  can  always  be  detected 
under  a  microscope.  The  essential  elements  of  the 
pure  article,  a  very  rare  thing  in  the  markets  of  to-day, 
are  the  glycerides  of  stearic,  polmitic  and  oleic  acids, 
and  butyrin.  Butter  and  flour,  it  seems  then,  though 
two  of  the  indispensables  of  the  kitchen,  the  former 
especially,  are  not  only  adulterated  in  England,  but 
actually  bedeviled,  it  can  scarcely  be  called  "  doctor- 
ing," that  being  altogether  too  mild  a  name  for  it. 
A  slice  of  English  baker's  bread,  covered  with  a  thick 
coating  of  American  butter,  would  make  a  dose  fit  for 
an  iron-walled  stomach,  but  for  an  ordinary  one,  it 
would  prove  a  very  trying  olive  branch  to  hunger. 

"  Pass  that  plate  of  rag-pulp,"  said  a  wag  to  a  color- 
ed waiter  at  one  of  our  up-town  hotels,  the  butter 
being  in  a  state  of  decomposition  not  altogether  agree- 
able to  his  olfactories.  The  waiter  stood  astounded, 
and  the  boarder  explained  in  a  way  that  was  expres- 
sive, if  not  scientific.    "That  dish  of  butter  you  have 


274 


Food  Poisoners. 


brought  me,  contains  old  rags  enough  to  make  a  towel 
as  large  as  the  one  you  hold  in  your  fist."  The  board- 
er has  since  set  up  his  own  establishment,  but  it  is 
doubtful  if  the  quality  of  the  butter  on  his  table  is 
much  better  than  that  of  the  hotel. 

Take  Cayenne  pepper  and  see  what  a  poisonous, 
abominable  mess  is  made  of  it  by  adulteration.  Salt, 
red  lead,  brick  dust,  and  Venetian  red,  with  a  very 
small  amount  of  the  real  Cayenne,  make  up  the  article 
sold  by  our  grocers.  Two  poisons,  and  an  insoluble 
clay,  in  one  little  bottle  of  your  table  castor ! 

Cheese  is  frequently  colored  with  anatto,  harmless 
when  pure,  but  often  mixed  with  red  lead,  an  active 
poison,  that  in  many  instances  of  cheese-poisoning  has 
produced  serious,  and  not  unfrequently  fatal  results. 
Even  our  morning  or  afternoon  cup  of  cocoa,  the  de- 
light of  invalids,  comes  to  us  flavored  only  with  the 
real  article,  the  rest  being  made  of  sago,  arrowroot, 
wheat,  potato,  and  rice  starches,  sugar  and  protoxide 
of  iron,  a  delicious  drink,  altogether  soothing  to  the 
sensitive  stomach  of  the  sick. 

Since  what  we  have  said  of  coffee  adulteration  in 
this  chapter  was  written,  an  account  of  some  American 
tests  recently  made  in  the  same  direction,  show  that 
in  addition  to  the  adulterants  usually  found  in  ground 
coffee,  wurtzel,  baked  liver,  sawdust,  tan,  Yenetian  red, 
and  other  poisons,  "  too  numerous  to  mention,"  were 
found,  the  real  forming  not  more  than  one-third  of  the 
mixture.  That  traditional  pair  of  urchin's  breeches 
that  had  been  patched  so  often  that  nothing  remained 
of  the  original  material,  would  prove  no  match  at  all 
for  a  cup  of  coffee  made  from  the  patchwork  men- 
tioned. 

Dr.  Cameron,  an  English  chemist,  was  asked  a  few 


Food  Poisoners, 


275 


years  ago  to  make  some  experiments  in  "  sweet-meats," 
as  it  was  supposed  that  these  were  doctored  generally 
with  pernicious  adulterants.  The  worst  fears  were 
fully  realized  in  the  tests  made.  In  addition  to  the 
poisons  found  in  American  confectionery,  there  were 
eliminated  chromate  of  lead,  oxide  of  lead,  Brunswick 
and  chrome  green,  zinc,  Rinman's  green,  and  Scheell's 
green,  or  arsenite  of  copper.  The  dearest  bit  of  a 
"  sweet-meat,"  a  baby  in  its  cradle,  the  Dr.  described 
as  follows  :  "  The  cradle  was  made  of  plaster  of  Paris, 
and  the  body  of  the  infant  of  sugar  and  starch.  Its 
eyes  were  Prussian  blue,  its  cheeks  stained  with  cochi- 
neal, and  its  clothes  were  painted  with  chromate  of 
lead."  Truly,  a  precious  baby,  but  what  a  dose  to  be 
transferred,  as  it  doubtless  ultimately  was,  to  the  sto- 
mach of  some  baby  of  larger  growth. 

Strained  honey  is  adulterated  everywhere, — chalk, 
flour,  gelatine,  dextrine  and  glucase,  being  the  princi- 
pal adulterants.  Even  hog's  lard  comes  to  us  stuffed 
with  potato  starch,  chloride  of  calcium,  and  tallow. 
"With  every  glass  of  milk  we  drink,  from  the  can  of 
the  milkman,  water,  starch  and  chalk  are  taken  in 
quantities  that  represent  the  average  conscience  of  the 
milkman.  The  olive  oil  that  moistens  our  salads, 
would,  if  analyzed,  be  found  largely  made  up  of  poppy 
oil,  rape  oil,  lard  oil,  and  sulphuric  acid,  the  latter 
added  for  the  purpose  of  bleaching  it  to  the  olive  tint, 
wre  suppose. 

In  the  matter  of  tea  adulterations,  it  was  supposed 
that  in  this  country  we  had  reached  the  lowest  point 
in  the  wood-shaving  adulterant,  but  the  experiments 
of  Prof.  Atcherly  show  that  our  doctored  article  is 
superior  to  the  English.  An  English  cup  of  doctored 
tea  is  composed,  it  seems,  of  the  following  ingredients : 


276 


Food  Poisoners. 


"  Willow,  elder,  sloe,  hawthorne,  beech,  oak,  elm, 
poplar,  and  plane  leaves.  Chloranthus  inconspicuous, 
Cornelia  Sasaqua,  exhausted  tea  leaves,  faced  with 
Prussian  blue — a  very  blue  face  ;  cliromate  of  lead,  and 
plumbago,  rice  husks,  iron  filings,  wood  shavings, 
spurious  stalks,  etc.,  etc.,"  what  the  "  etc."  stands  for  is 
still  an  enigma  to  all  save  the  adulterer,  we  suspect,  so 
that  the  question  hereafter  will  be,  in  reference  to  the 
cup  of  coffee  or  tea  that  we  lift  to  our  lips,  not  what  it 
does,  but  what  it  does  not  contain,  beside  the  real 
article. 

One  more  sample  and  we  close  this  chapter,  with  a 
feeling  that  if  the  facts  contained  in  it  are  not  suffi- 
cient to  rouse  attention  that  shall  lead  to  some  whole- 
some and  effective  legislation  to  prevent  this  utterly 
unconscionable,  criminal,  wholesale  poisoning  of  food, 
we  deserve  to  be  poisoned  in  a  body.  The  case  we 
refer  to  is  that  of  the  wines,  imported  and  of  home 
manufacture,  which  we  use  on  our  tables,  and  for 
medicinal  purposes.  And  first  as  to  American  wines, 
and  by  those  we  mean  the  wines  made  at  the  large 
wine  stills  of  the  country.  Our  own  wines  for  hotel 
or  private  table  use  are  of  comparatively  recent  origin, 
and  the  tests  thus  far  made  show  them  to  be  freer  from 
adulterants  than  any  of  the  imported  wines,  and  espe- 
cially of  the  cheap  foreign  wines,  such  as  claret,  for 
example,  which  cannot  be  found  of  good  quality  in 
this  country  now,  except  with  great  difficulty,  if  at  all. 
The  Cincinnati  wines,  and  those  of  Hammondsport, 
New  York,  are  rapidly  driving  the  best  foreign,  ex-< 
pensive  wines  from  the  market;  at  all  events,  their 
coming  has  materially  reduced  the  cost  -of*  certain 
brands  from  the  best  stills  of  Europe.  Where  the 
adulterations  of  the  foreign  article  are  made,  it  is  diffi- 


I 


Food  Poisoners^  277 

cult  to  ascertain.  The  importer,  in  the  case  of  still 
wines,  on  draft,  the  old,  heavy  dinner  wines,  says  that 
the  doctoring  is  all  done  "on  the  other  side."  Wher- 
ever doctored,  it  is  certain  that  but  little  of  the  pure 
juice  of  the  foreign  grape  finds  its  way  to  American 
tables.  The  glass  of  foreign  sherry,  or  port,  or  Madei- 
ra, so  beautiful  in  color,  but  so  execrable  to  the  taste, 
may  contain  one  or  all  of  the  following  delectables  to 
stomach  and  nerves:  Rhatany,  logwood,  elderberry, 
Brazil-wood,  the  berries  of  the  Virginian  poke,  purple 
holyoak,  alum,  glucase,  cider,  plain  spirit,  caramel, 
catechu,  and  water.  Of  course  the  real  juice  of  the 
grape,  in  such  a  nondescript  mixture  as  this  is  of  de- 
cidedly homeopathic  proportions.  The  profits  on  these 
frauds  is  enormous,  but  their  real  character  none  but 
the  chemist  who  goes  through  them  with  fire  and  cru- 
cible can  tell. 

Taken  altogether,  what  a  catalogue  of  frauds  does 
this  business  of  food  and  drink  adulteration  present ! 
What  blissful  uncertainty  seizes  upon  the  diner-out  as 
he  unfolds  his  napkin  for  a  run  through  a  course-din- 
ner at  Delmonico's,  or  the  "  Fifth  Avenue,"  and  in  the 
course  of  which  he  will  run,  or  his  stomach  for  him, 
the  gauntlet  of  about  fifty  active  poisons,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  those  that  lie  dormant  in  the  system,  quietly 
preparing  it  for  the  advent  of  a  fresh  catalogue  of  dis- 
eases in  after  years.  A  single  practical  suggestion  by 
way  of  remedy  for  this  great  evil,  and  we  leave  the 
subject  to  the  consideration  of  the  party  most  inter 
ested,  the  great  public  itself. 

Adulteration  of  both  food  and  drink  in  this  country 
is  shown  to  be  a  fraud  that  extends  to  almost  every 
article  of  table  use.  It  has  grown  to  its  present  pro 
portions,  simply  on  account  of  the  general  indifference 


278 


Food  Poisoners. 


in  regard  to  a  matter  that  was  beyond  the  immediate 
reach  of  the  consumer.  The  matter  has  now  become 
one  of  pure  sanitary  importance.  It  is  not  so  much  a 
matter  of  money  as  of  health,  and  of  taste.  We  want 
a  law  to  punish  both  the  adulterer  and  him  who  sells 
adulterated  food  or  drink.  The  evil  is  a  general,  but 
invisible  one,  detrimental  to  both  health  and  morals, 
and  must  be  met  with  a  far-reaching,  and  efficient 
penal  remedy.  Every  large  city  and  village  in  the 
country  should  be  divided  into  one  or  more  sanitary 
districts,  the  business  of  which,  among  other  duties 
incident  to  the  public  health,  should  be  to  punish  every 
violation  of  a  statute  forbidding,  and  rendering  penal 
the  adulteration  of  food.  Each  local  government  must 
be  made  to  look  after  all  violations  in  its  own  district, 
the  inspectors  being  invested  with  all  needful  power  to 
carry  out  the  law,  and  thus  break  up  this  wholesale 
attempt  of  two  or  three  classes  to  grow  rich  at  the 
expense  of  the  pockets  and  the  health  of  an  unoffend- 
ing public. 

The  death  map  of  our  great  cities  shows  no  darker 
or  more  dismal  portion  than  that  which  makes  the 
graves  of  those  who  die  for  want  of  pure  food.  The 
mortality  of  children  alone  from  this  cause  should  of 
itself  rouse  the  indignation  of  all  to  a  matter  so  vital 
to  life  and  health.  The  more  closely  packed  our  popu- 
lations become,  the  more  pressing  the  need  of  sanitary 
supervision  and  regulation. 

The  common  law  of  England  prohibited  any  act  that 
endangered  the  public  health,  whether  positive  or 
through  neglect,  but  as  the  people  came  together  in 
communities  the  general  statutes  grew  inoperative, 
and  the  special  enactments  came  in  their  place.  If 
the  father  of  Shakespeare  was  fined,  more  than  three 


• 


Food  Poisoners. 


279 


hundred  years  ago,  as  history  says  he  was,  for  deposit- 
ing filth  in  the  streets  of  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  obe- 
dience to  a  desire  for  the  public  comfort  and  health, 
a  wilful,  deliberate  act  of  food-poisoning  occurring 
now  ought  surely  to  be  punished  in  such  a  way  as  to 
prevent  its  recurrence.  The  whole  country  is  alive 
to  the  questions  of  sewerage,  drainage,  ventilation,  and 
general  cleanliness  :  now  let  it  add  to  its  good  work  in 
these  directions  the  regulations  that  will  give  to  all 
classes  alike  security  against  the  depredations  of  the 
food  and  drink  poisoners. 


/ 


CHAPTER  VII. 


GAMBLING  "  HELLS  "  OF  NEW  YORK. 

"  Try  your  luck  again,  Charley." 

"  No,  sir.  You  have  got  my  last  dollar,  and  you 
may  go  to  h — 1  with  it." 

Not  another  word  passed1  between  the  two,  but  brief 
as  it  was,  this  colloquy  told  the  whole  story  of  a  young, 
but  persistent  gambler's  career.  It  is  my  cue,  now 
and  then,  as  one  on  the  look-out  for  sharpers  that 
sometimes  betake  themselves  to  gambling  houses  as  a 
refuge,  to  break  in  upon  them  at  any  hour  of  the  day 
or  night  that  suits  me.  I  have  the  entree  to  all  these 
dens  from  the  palatial  Chamberlains,  down  to  the- 
lowest,  and  have  often  been  the  willing  and  unwilling 
observer  and  actor  as  well,  in  scenes  that  I  cannot  re- 
call without  a  shudder  of  disgust.  Some  of  these,  like 
the  one  mentioned,  are  of  very  recent  date,  and  are 
fresh  in  my  memory.  None  but  old  gamblers  know 
the  strange  fascination  that  lurks  in  a  game  of  "  faro  " 
or  a  dash  at  the  "  roulette  "  table.  The  eye,  the  man- 
ner, the  affected  quietude  of  the  expert  in  play,  illus- 
trate more  strongly  than  all  else,  that  a  hope  springs 
eternal  in  the  human  breast."  It  fades  out,  in  the 
gambler's  case  only,  with  the  life  of  the  victim.  It  is 
doubtful  if  the  realm  of  despair,  nevertheless,  furnishes 
any  type  of  that  element  in  our  nature,  that  in  a  single 
instant  banishes  to  utter  solitude  the  man  who  has 
been  suddenly  stripped  of  every  dime,  like  that  bred 
in  a  gambling  house.    To  a  sensitive  man,  and  there 


Gamlling  "Hells"  of  JSTew  York.  231 


are  thousands  of  such,  who  spend  their  days  and  nights 
in  play,  in  this  great  city,  to  have  fortune,  friends, 
hope  almost,  swept  away  with  one  fell  swoop  in  a 
gambling  hell  like  Chamberlain's  or  Morrisey's,  is  to 
scatter  at  a  blow  every  human  calculation,  andturn 
visions  of  wealth  into  the  dread  reality  of  utter  and 
absolute  poverty.  We  have  seen  a  man  whose  passion 
for  cards  and  faro  was  measured  only  by  the  strength  of 
will  that  lay  behind  it,  walk  out  of  one  of  these  splendid 
hells,  after  ruin  irretrievable  had  come  to  him,  with  a 
nonchalance  that  seemed  born  of  that  coolness  and  in- 
difference sometimes  shown  by  persons  long  demented. 
The  feeling  was  only  apparent,  not  real.  An  iceberg 
in  appearance,  a  wild  tumult  of  passions  was  at  the 
very  moment  stirring  in  his  heart,  resembling  the 
thunder-bursts  that  shake  the  mountain  peaks  after  a 
sultry  day  in  summer. 

The  incident  mentioned  at  the  commencement  of 
this  chapter  was  of  this  sort,  and  is  worthy  of  a  place 
here  as  showing  the  power  of  a  passion  that  gathers  to 
it  as  it  develops  in  intensity  every  other  element  in  the 
victim's  nature,  until  at  last  he  finds  himself  the  poss- 
essor of  but  one,  solitary,  overmastering  impulse  for 
play. 

The  case  we  refer  to  is  but  one  of  a  type  that  fur- 
nishes thousands  of  illustrations  in  this  city  every  year. 
A  merchant  will  come  here,  not  unfrequently  from  a 
"Western  city,  who  feels  that  New  York  must  be  "  done 
up "  before  he  returns,  and  that  he  is  competent  to 
"  do  it."  There  is  no  lack  of  companions,  and  soon  he 
is  on  his  round  of  pleasure,  the  gayest  of  the  gay. 
Having  a  full  purse,  and  being  known  at  home  as  a 
generous  spender  in  a  small  way,  he  wishes  now  to  ex- 
pand his  reputation  in  this  regard,  and  every  opportu- 


2S2 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


nity  is  afforded  him.  Wine,  women,  the  theatres,  the 
races,  a  drive  in  the  Park  or  the  boulevards  that  flank 
it,  and  which  are  so  bewildering  to  the  eye  of  rural 
simplicity,  lure  him  on,  until  he  stands,  heated  with 
drink,  and  flushed  with  an  excitement  never  felt  be- 
fore, in  the  presence  of  the  villain  that  will  transform 
him  into  a  beggar  by  one  fatal  throw  of  the  loaded 
dice,  or  one  turn  of  the  fatal  roulette. 

The  gilded  hell  in  Eighth  street,  near  Broadway,  is 
known  to  every  fast  New  Yorker,  and  I  often  find  my- 
self there  as  a  looker  on.  It  is  a  good  place  to  study 
faces  and  character,  especially  the  latter.  There  is  as 
much  difference  as  can  be  imagined  between  the  man- 
ner in  which  two  people,  or  any  number  of  people  will 
act  under  the  same  circumstances.  On  the  night  in 
question  a  large  number  of  players  were  present,  and 
the  excitement,  though  suppressed,  as  it  usually  is  at 
these  places,  was  of  the  most  intense  description.  It 
is  safe  to  say  that  fifty  thousand  dollars  changed  hands 
during  the  brief  time  I  stood  at  one  of  the  tables, 
watching  with  a  thrill  of  emotion,  new  to  myself  even, 
the  progress  of  the  gambler's  work.  About  twelve 
o'clock,  the  door  opened,  and  a  handsomely  dressed 
man,  of  about  thirty  years,  entered  alone,  and  walked 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  table  at  which  I  was  stand- 
ing. There  was  nothing  striking  in  his  face  or  man- 
ner, save  a  look  of  sullen,  stony  indifference  to  all 
about  him,  that  showed  him  to  be  an  habitue  of  the 
hell.  At  a  little  after  midnight  there  was  a  lull,  when 
he  stepped  to  the  front  of  the  table  and  began  to  play. 
It  was  evident  in  a  moment  that  he  was  no  novice. 
He  had  "been  there"  before  and  had  lost,  and  lost 
heavily.  All  this  was  as  certainly  portrayed  in  his 
face,  as  if  he  had  said  it  in  so  many  unmistakable  words. 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York.  233 


Xor  was  lie  a  professional  who  had  run  through  the 
long  gamut  of  play,  until  winning  and  losing  were 
alike  to  him,  the  mere  excitement  of  an  hour.  lie 
wras  something  better  than  all  this,  yet  he  had  the  man- 
ner of  one  who  had  thrown  the  best  chances  of  his  life 
upon  the  hazard  of  chance,  and  had  lost ;  and  it  was 
indeed  so,  as  the  sequel  proved,  for  I  saw  him  then 
and  there  lay  down  his  last  dollar  and  lose  it.  It  was 
the  loss  of  it  that  led  to  the  brief  but  expressive  out- 
l  burst  that  I  have  recounted.  "  You  have  got  my  last 
dollar,  and  you  may  go  to  hell  with  it." 

I  am  not  given  much  to  tears,  at  this  period  of  my 
life,  spent  for  the  most  part  in  entire  familiarity  with 
such  scenes  as  this,  but  there  was  a  something  in  the 
man's  tone,  as  he  uttered  this  sentence,  that  went 
straight  to  my  heart,  and,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  found 
my  eyes  moistened  with  an  emotion  that  I  could  not 
suppress.  Here  was  a  man  that  showed  in  his  face, 
his  bearing,  his  dress,  in  everything  about  him,  that 
he  had  been  born  with  the  traditional  "  silver  spoon  " 
for  an  inheritance,  together  with  the  unmistakable 
marks  of  a  life  spent  amidst  pleasant  and  cultivated 
associations.  There  was  an  ease,  an  independence, 
and  a  quiet  dignity  in  all  that  he  did  and  said  that 
singled  him  out  as  no  ordinary  gambler. 

At  every  fresh  look  my  interest  in  him  increased, 
until  it  reached  a  degree  of  intensity  that  amounted  to 
curiosity,  and  I  determined,  if  opportunity  offered,  to 
gratify  it  to  an  extent  that  should  have  in  it  nothing 
of  impertinence,  or  of  the  Paul  Pry  order  of  curiosity. 
I  had  not  long  to  wait,  for,  after  lighting  a  fresh  cigar, 
he  moved  toward  the  door,  bowed  to  a  friend  or  two 
on  his  way,  and  passed  into  the  street. 

As  he  stepped  upon  the  sidewalk,  I  tapped  him  upon 


2Si  Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


the  shoulder,  with  an  apology  for  a  seeming  intrusion, 
remarking  at  the  same  time,  that  my  interest  in  him 
had  led  to  the  familiarity.  He  stopped  short,  stood  a 
moment  without  uttering  a  word,  and  then,  in  a  voice 
husky  with  an  excitement  that  shook  every  nerve 
within  him,  remarked  : 

"  You  certainly  have  no  claim  upon  my  confidence, 
as  you  are  an  entire  stranger,  but  I  feel  the  need  of  a 
friend  at  this  moment,  as  I  have  never  felt  it  before, 
and  although  I  may  not  find  such  in  you,  I  shall  trust- 
myself  for  a  moment  in  the  hands  of  one  who  seems, 
at  least,  to  seek  my  confidence  from  no  selfish  motive." 

I  assured  him  of  my  sincerity,  and  he  went  on  to 
say  what  had  happened  to  him  in  a  brief  career  of  one 
year  in  the  metropolis  to  which,  up  to  that  time,  he 
had  been  a  stranger.  I  give  his  account  of  this  episode 
in  his  life  in  his  own  words,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recall 
them. 

"  To-night,  as  you  see  me,"  said  he,  "  I  am  worse 
than  ruined ;  I  am  utterly  lost.  In  all  this  great  city, 
this  solitude  to  a  man,  a  stranger,  like  myself,  I  have 
not  a  friend  or  kinsman  to  whom  I  can  appeal  in  my 
present  extremity,  the  crisis  of  my  life.  My  father, 
lon£  a  rich  merchant  of  St.  Louis,  and  descended  from 
one  of  her  oldest  and  best  French  families,  died  a  little 
more  than  a  year  ago,  by  which  I  came  in  possession 
of  something  over  $200,000.  After  settling  up  his 
estate,  as  sole  executor — my  mother  having  died  years 
ag0 — I  determined  to  go  to  Europe,  and  spend  a  year 
or  two  among  scenes  that  I  had  known  as  a  student 
abroad. 

"  As  a  young  man  at  school,  I  had  learned  to  play 
at  the  saloons  of  Paris  and  Vienna,  where  I  resided 
for  a  time,  but  playing  in  those  days  was  not  a  passion. 


Gambling  "Hells  "  of  New  York.  285 


but  a  mere  pastime.  On  coming  to  New  York,  I  in- 
vested every  dollar  I  was  worth  in  government  secu- 
rities, and  deposited  them  in  the  safe  of  a  banker  in 
Wall  street,  who  was  to  furnish  me  with  what  means  I 
should  need  abroad.  In  an  unlucky  hour  I  yielded  to 
the  wishes  of  a  casual  acquaintance  to  remain  for  a 
time  in  this  city.  With  him  as  a  companion,  I  soon 
became  intimate  at  the  clubs  and  other  places  of  resort 
for  fashionable  young  men  of  easy  virtue  and  plenty  of 
money.  All  went  well  so  long  as  my  purse  was  at  his 
command,  but  I  played  deeper  and  deeper,  until  at 
last  the  very  devil  of  chance  got  hold  of  me,  and  I 
threw  myself  into  the  business  with  a  desperation  that 
seems  now,  when  all  is  gone,  nothing  but  a  troubled 
dream,  a  kind  of  nightmare  that  held  me  in  its  horrid 
embrace,  until  ruin  stared  me  in  the  face.  To-night  I 
have  not  money  enough  left  to  take  me  back  to  the 
place  in  which  I  was  born,  nor  do  I  know  the  man 
who  would  be  likely  to  send  me  there.  I  have  no  pro- 
fession, no  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood,  and  the 
thought  that  1  was  a  beggar,  alone  in  the  wide  world, 
came  to  me  with  a  suddenness  so  terrible  that  I  sunk 
to  the  lowest  depth  of  despair  as  I  left  this  thrice 
accursed  building." 

We  were  still  standing  in  front  of  the  hell,  which 
had  proved  more  than  that  even,  to  him.  I  tendered 
him  my  warmest  sympathy,  and  offered  to  interest  my- 
self in  him  to  any  extent  that  lay  in  my  way,  but  of 
course  he  declined  the  offer,  and  in  such  a  way,  as  to 
cause  a  regret  that  I  had  made  it.  The'  next  morn- 
ing's  papers  contained  a  brief  account  of  a  young  man 
who  had  committed  suicide  in  a  fashionable  private 
hotel  on  Broadway,  near  30th  street.  Curiosity  led  me 
to  look  in  at  the  coroner's  inquest,  where  I  beheld  the 


286         Gambling  "Hells"  of  Xew  York. 


lifeless  body  of  the  man  to  whom  I  had  said  "good 
night"  but  a  few  hours  before. 

This  incident  is  by  no  means  an  unusual  one  in  this 
city.  These  gambling  houses  of  the  better  class,  that 
is  to  say,  the  more  fashionable  sort,  they  are  all  alike 
in  purpose  and  influence,  furnish  scores  of  such  cases 
every  year.  They  come  and  go  as  parts  of  a  ghastly 
procession  that  moves  continuously  on  to  the  perdition 
that  awaits  them.  Could  the  agony,  the  despair,  the 
mental  torture  experienced  in  a  single  night  in  the 
gambling  hells  that  line  Broadway  and  the  streets  that 
empty  in  it  from  24th  street  to  the  Battery,  be  con- 
centrated into  a  single  sketch,  it  would  curdle  the 
blood  of  the  most  indifferent  gambler  himself,  while  to 
the  unfortunate  it  would  be  simply  appalling. 

Nothing  can  be  more  absurd  in  these  later  days 
than  the  maxim  of  the  old  Roman  poet,  that  "  vice  to 
be  abhorred  must  be  seen."  We  have  got  far  beyond 
that  condition  of  innocence  that  would  render  such 
familiarity  with  crime  and  criminals  a  safe  moral  in- 
vestment. Yice  is  no  longer  a  monster  so  hideous  and 
deformed,  that  the  eye  of  innocence  even  becomes  dis- 
gusted at  the  sight  of  it.  *  So  far  from  this,  it  uses  no 
disguises  at  all,  nor  does  it  need  any.  It  may  dress 
itself  up  in  what  shape  it  chooses,  and  even  the  most 
sanctimonious  will  run  to  take  a  look  at  it,  and  it  has 
been  shrewdly  observed  by  a  man  of  the  world,  hi  in- 
self  it  is  true,  somewhat,  given  to  sights  and  shows, 
that  even  piety  prefers  now  to  see  the  devil  without 
paint,  just  as  he  is,  horns,  hoof  and  tail,  a  real  devil 
and  no  mistake.  Nobody  is  horrified  now  at  sights,  or 
at  conversation,  either  of  which  would  have  set  our 
Puritan  fathers'  and  mothers'  teeth  on  edge.  As  to 
what  may  be  written  that  is  positively  lewd,  and  still 


Gambling  "Hells  "  of  JSTew  York.  287 


be  devoured  with  an  appetite  that  knows  no  limit  to 
its  gratification,  the  late  Plymouth  Church  scandal  fur- 
nishes a  most  apt  illustration.  It  would  seem  that  we 
have  fallen  upon  times  where  exhibitions,  however 
broad  in  suggestions  of  lewdness,  win  the  applause  of 
even  "  genteel  "  audiences. 

So  far  as  appearances  go,  it  is  doubtful  if  the  most 
refined  private  circles  in  our  city  can  furnish  in  man- 
ner, at  least,  more  perfect  specimens  of  good  breeding 
and  dignity  than  do  the  first-class  gambling  houses  of 
New  York.  The  social  grades  of  the  gambling  fra- 
ternity are  as  distinctly  marked  as  any  other.  An 
evening  spent  at  Chamberlain's  place  in  Twenty-fourth 
street,  or  at  his  Long  Branch  hell,  or  at  Congressman 
John  Morrisey's,  during  the  "  season "  at  Saratoga, 
will  convince  the  most  skeptical  that  the  men  who 
drink  deepest  at  the  fatal  Spring  over  which  Chance 
presides,  are  not  unfrequently  men  who  are  not 
strangers  to  literature,  or  wealth,  and  who  are  often 
men  of  the  most  refined  tastes. 

In  these  houses  nothing  is  omitted  in  the  way  of 
costly  furniture  and  decorations  that  can  render  them 
attractive  to  men  of  wealth  and  station.  The  wines, 
the  viands,  the  table  silver  and  other  appointments, 
the  manner  in  which  all  is  served,  all  tend  artfully  to 
strengthen  the  delusion  that  the  place  is  a  private  one, 
and  that  he  who  presides  over  it  is  only  doing  his 
best  to  amuse  his  guests.  One  feature  is  conspicuous, 
however,  through  all  the  routine  of  one  of  these  splen- 
did hells.  Hilarity  rarely  is  met  with;  drunkenness, 
never.  The  habitues  of  these  places  need  all  their 
wits  when  there,  and  seldom  part  with  them  through 
drink  or  excitement. 

Should  a  patron  of  the  place  come  to  it  intoxicated, 


288  Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


he  is  quietly,  tenderly  disposed  of ;  if  a  stranger,  lie 
will  be  shown  to  the  sidewalk.  A  funeral  occasion 
is  not  marked  by  a  silence  more  profound  than 
that  which  prevails  at  the  best  places  where  the 
"  tiger "  is  attacked,  and  it  is  certain  that  within 
them  are  rung  nightly  the  death-knell  of  a  thousand 
hopes. 

A  step  downwards  reveals  a  different  state  of  things 
both  as  to  the  houses  and  their  personnel.  Here  all  is 
tawdry  in  the  way  of  ornaments  and  make-up.  A 
"  Cheap  John  "  air  pervades  the  whole  concern.  Of 
gilt  and  glitter  there  is  still  enough,  but  it  is  a  base 
imitation  ;  the  real  is  not  to  be  found.  Tumble-down 
objects  in  the  way  of  furniture  and  adornments  are 
everywhere.  Not  an  evidence  of  good  living  or  of 
good  taste  can  be  seen.  The  wines  and  liquors  are 
abominable  in  quality,  and  the  suppers  such  as  would 
destroy  the  stomach  of  an  ostrich.  The  same  differ- 
ence is  noticeable  in  the  players.  They  are  those  one 
meets  on  Broadway  any  day  in  the  year,  and  at  the 
sight  of  whom  you  instinctively  clutch  your  wallet  if 
there  be  anything  in  it  worth  preserving.  Coarse- 
featured,  bag-eyed,  loaded  down  with  cheap  jewelry, 
with  now  and  then  a  single  diamond  preserved  as  a 
relic  of  other  and,  it  may  be,  better  days,  they  carry  in 
their  bearing  and  faces  the  sure  evidences  of  growing 
degradation.  A  few  of  these  have  come  from  respect- 
ability to  gambling  for  a  living,  a  mode  of  existence 
that  has  no  match  in  meanness  on  this  side  of  the  pit 
of  the  infernal  regions.  Another  step  down  the  lad- 
der, and  you  have  reached  the  point  at  which  disgust 
begins  and  continues  to  deepen  to  the  bitter  end. 
Around  the  tables  of  the  well-bred  Chamberlain,  and 
in  his  private  rooms,  hovered  grave  Senators,  Mem- 


Gambling  "Tlells"  of  Yew  York.  289 


bers,  and  millionaires,  the  proprietor  the  peer  of  the 
best  of  them  in  dress  and  manner,  and  perhaps  we 
might  add  with  some  show  of  truth,  in  morals  as  well. 
Here  are  coarse-grained  faces,  frowsy  beards  and  hair, 
or  close-cut  to  be  out  of  the  way,  threadbare  habili- 
ments, downcast  looks  from  faces  of  the  bull-dog  type, 
and  all  around  an  atmosphere  of  villainy  that  betrays 
the  character  of  the  place. 

A  smell  compounded  of  odors  of  vile  grease,  bad 
liquors,  and  unclean  bodies,  pervades  the  apartment, 
reminding  one  of  Satan's  grand  outburst  in  "  Paradise 
Lost "—  ^ 

"  "Which  way  I  fly  is  hell,  myself  am  hell." 

Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  dismal  than  maces  of 
this  grade  to  an  outsider  unused  to  such  scenes.  The 
creatures  found  here  are  in  every  appropriate  sense 
the  social  vampires  of  the  city.  Having  never  known 
the  ways  of  honest  men,  or  earned  an  honest  living 
for  a  single  day  of  their  worse  than  useless  lives,  they 
spend  their  time  in  "  fighting  the  tiger  "or  playing 
poker.  They  are  the  creatures  who  began  life  at  the 
wrong  end,  and  have  kept  straight  on  the  same  direc- 
tion, until  anything  like  reformation  is  not  to  be 
thought  of.  What  room,  indeed,  for  reforming  a 
monster  that  has  never  known  the  ways  or  the  haunts 
of  innocence,  but  whose  life  has  been  one  continu- 
ous retrogression,  without  a  redeeming  feature.  The 
hang-dog  manner  in  which  the  gamblers  of  these  houses 
hover  about  the  hell,  shows  them  ripe  for  the  perpe- 
tration of  any  crime  from  a  petty  theft  to  that  of 
murder.  This  class  of  houses  is  not  deemed  the  worst, 
and  if  filth  and  squalor  are  taken  in  the  account,  they 
are  not  so,  but  in  all  else  they  are  as  vile  as  the  lowest, 


290         Gambling  " Hells  "  of  New  York. 


dirtiest  faro  dens  in  the  city.  The  difference  is  only 
one  of  physical  filth. 

The  passion  of  the  American  gambler  is  admitted  to 
be  faro.  From  the  millionaire  Seuator  who  plays  at 
Chamberlain's  or  the  "Big  Murray,"  down  to  the 
meanest  shark  who  stands  ready  to  take  your  life  for  a 
sou,  faro  is  the  game.  The  quiet  manner  in  which  it 
is  played  lends  to  it  a  peculiar  fascination  for  all 
grades  of  players.  A  gambler  at  his  work  needs  to 
be  in  full  possession  of  all  his  wits.  Anything  that 
distracts  his  attention  for  a  moment  even  annoys  him. 
So  constant  is  this  habit  of  concentration,  that  it 
stamps  itself  indelibly  upon  the  features,  and  so  stolid 
do  even  these  canaille  become,  that  they  can  witness 
the  "  raking-in  "  of  their  last  dime  with  a  composure 
that  would  be  admirable  anywhere  else.  There  are 
one  hundred  faro  houses  in  this  city,  with  a  regular 
following  perhaps  of  five  thousand  players.  The  others 
are  outsiders,  or  occasionals,  a  small  army  in  them- 
selves, but  the  army  that  furnishes  the- means  by  which 
the  "banks"  are  kept  going.  The  average  gains  of 
the  regular  players,  especially  in  the  lower  houses,  are 
a  trifle  compared  with  those  in  the  first-class  hells. 

Mr.  Crapsey  describes  the  great  American  game  as 
follows :  "  There  is  first,  the  large  massive  table,  covered 
with  green  cloth,  and  on  it,  occupying  less  than  half  in 
surface,  is  the  '  lay  out,'  which  is  a  full  suit  of  cards 
from  the  ace  to  the  king,  painted  in  a  parallelogram. 
Then  there  is  the  dealing-box,  into  which  the  cards  are 
put,  face  upward,  and  the  whole  game  consists  in 
guessing  what  card  will  be  reached  as  they  are  drawn 
from  the  box.  All  being  ready,  the  players  make  their 
bets  by  placing  upon  a  card  in  the  c  lay  out,'  the 
amount  they  desire  to  risk  upon  it ;  and  the  game  can 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  Xew  York. 


291 


be  best  described  by  supposing  that  one  of  these  is 
sanguine  that  the  queen  will  win.  lie  therefore  puts 
on  the  card  the  small  round  piece  of  ivory  called 
6  checks,'  which  he  has  purchased  of  the  dealer,  and  * 
each  of  which  represents  a  certain  sum  all  the  way 
from  twenty  cents  to  a  hundred  dollars.  The  first  card 
having  been  exposed  before  the  game  opens,  is  '  dead,' 
and  does  not  count.  If  the  second  should  be  a  queen, 
the  supposed  player  loses  ;  but  if  the  third,  he  wins. 
The  same  rule  holds  ^ood  through  the  seventeen  turns 
in  each  deal,  the  dealer  winning  on  each  alternate  card 
beginning  with  the  second.  But  when  only  four  cards 
remain  in  the  box,  the  game  assumes1  a  new  phase  as 
the  last  turn  is  called.  The  first  and  fourth  card  being: 
'  dead,'  only  the  second  and  third  are  open  to  specula- 
tion, and  the  chances  are  considered  so  greatly  against 
the  player,  that  the  dealer  pays  four  for  one  on  this 
turn.  All  this  appears  very  simple  to  the  tyro,  and 
he  cannot  be  made  to  understand  that  the  bank  has 
any  advantage  over  him  in  guessing  the  order  in  which 
the  cards  in  the  box  will  be  reached.  He  is  fully  pre- 
pared to  believe  that  the  only  chances  against  him  are 
the  i  splits,'  as  the  bank  takes  half  of  whatever  may  be 
bet  upon  the  card,  when  two  of  the  same  suit  appear 
on  the  turn,  and  gives  him  nothing.  It  is  impossible 
for  casual  lookers  on  to  contemplate  this  game  without 
a  feeling  that  the  player  stands  an  equal  chance  of 
winning  with  the  dealer.  A  little  practical  experi- 
ence, however,  reveals  the  error;  but  it  is  the 'first 
impression  that  has  contributed  to  make  it  the  most 
fascinating  of  games  played  for  money. 

"Provided  a  1  square'  game  is  dealt,  the  actual  play- 
ing of  faro  is  precisely  the  same  whether  thousands  are 
wagered  in  the  elegance  of  Twenty-fourth  street,  or  as 


292  Gambling  "Hells  "  of  Xew  York. 


many  pennies  in  the  squalor  of  the  Bowery.  The 
players  being  seated  around  three  sides  of  a  table, 
where  there  is  room  for  six  or  eight,  the  dealer  take? 
up  the  other  side,  with  the  marker  of  the  game 
generally  at  his  elbow.  This  marker  has  the  cue-box, 
a  glance  at  which  at  any  time,  will  show  the  players 
which  cards  of  each  suit  are  out,  and  which  yet 
remain  in  the  box ;  and  it  is  a  knowledge  eagerly 
sought  by  the  bettors,  who  are  to  a  great  extent 
guided  by  it.  There  is  rarely  a  w^orcl  spoken  during 
the  progress  of  a  deal,  for  faro  is  the  most  quiet  and 
gentlemanly  of  games.  A  glance  at  the  cue-box  tells 
the  player  the  condition  of  the  dealing-box,  and  he 
silently  places  his  wager  in  the  shape  of  checks  upon 
his  chosen  cards  or  card,  with  a  copper  upon  them  if 
he  desires  to  bet  upon  the  side  of  the  bank,  as  he  is  at 
liberty  to  do.  After  each  turn  the  dealer  glances 
over  the  board,  and  without  a  word,  picks  up  the 
checks  he  has  won,  or  adds  the  same  number  to 
those  already  upon  the  cards  in  the  cases  wherein  he 
has  lost." 

But  of  course  the  game  of  faro,  or  any  other  game, 
played  in  a  gambling  saloon  is  very  rarely  a  "  square  " 
one.  To  make  it  such,  would  be  to  render  it  an  even 
thing  between  player  and  dealer,  and  that  w^ould 
result  in  a  division  of  the  stakes  so  evenly  that  the 
business  would  be  comparatively  worthless.  But, 
whether  "  square  "  or  otherwise,  it  is  always  marked 
in  well  conducted  houses,  with  an  owl-like  solemnity 
of  manner  in  tine  contrast  with  the  noisy  demeanor  of 
their  brethren  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  in  which  yells 
and  screams  shake  that  pious  edifice  to  its  foundations 
every  secular  morning  of  the  year.  The  truth  is,  faro 
is  a  fraud,  and  a  perfectly  transparent  one.   The  player 


GamUing  "Hells  "  of  New  York.  293 


does  not  always  sec  it,  simply  because  it  is  his  cue 
not  to  see  it.  Like  Cupid,  the  chance  god  is  blind  of 
his  own  motion.  To  admit  that  he  knew  it  to  be  a 
fraud,  and  still  go  on  playing,  would  be  an  impugn- 
ment of  his  good  sense,  and  as  he  must  play,  he  needs 
the  excuse  of  business  to  help  him  through  without 
incurring  the  imputation  that  he  is  a  fool.  The  sanded 
cards,  an  old  trick  in  faro,  enables  the  dealer  to  so 
arrange  the  cards  before  dealing  that  the  result  is 
known  fully  to  the  dealer  beforehand.  No  matter 
what  card  the  player  bets  on,  that  card  cannot  win, 
except  at  the  option  of  the  dealer,  so  that  the  game  is 
at  best,  in  all  inferior  houses,  and  elsewhere  too  for  the 
most  part,  we  suspect,  emphatically  a  "  skin"  game,  in 
which  the  skinned  is  the  player.  These  "  skinners  " 
are  a  class  of  vampires  that  would  suck  the  blood 
from  an  oyster  if  they  could  find  it,  unconscionable 
villains,  ready  always  to  deal  a  card,  or  use  a  pistol. 
Now  and  then  a  decent,  and  withal,  shrewd  dupe, 
finds  himself  alone  in  one  of  these  "  skins,"  and  com- 
prehending at  a  glance,  that  a  cat  in  purgatory  with- 
out claws,  is  in  a  safer  place  than  he,  should  he  open 
his  mouth  in  the  way  of  a  growl,  pockets  his  loss  good- 
naturedly,  and  betakes  himself  to  the  street.  He  has 
taken  his  first  lesson  in  faro,  and  if  he  be  prudent,  as 
he  has  shown  himself  sensible,  will  never  "  fight  the 
tiger  "  again. 

As  to  the  law  against  gambling — and  there  is  a 
stringent  one  on  our  statute  books  to  prevent  it — 
it  is  worse  than  a  dead  letter.  Not  only  is  it  not 
enforced,  but  it  is  impossible  under  our  present,  as  it 
has  been  under  any  past  city  government  in  our  re- 
membrance, to  enforce  it.  A  victim  running  from  one 
of  these  faro  hells,  despoiled  of  his  last  dollar,  would 


29i  Gambling  uUelIs  "  of  Few  York. 


appeal  in  vain  to  any  policeman  to  make  an  arrest. 
If  this  statement  be  otherwise  than  true,  why  is  it  that 
this  swindle  goes  on  year  after  year  in  a  hundred 
places  in  our  city,  and  scarcely  an  arrest  even  be  made  ? 
while  as  to  the  players  themselves,  despite  the  law 
which  prohibits  gambling,  but  one  arrest  has  ever 
been  made  under  it,  it  is  said. 

We  confess  to  no  large  amount  of  sympathy  for  the 
victim  who  walks  into  one  of  these  hells  voluntarily, 
with  eyes  wide  open  as  to  their  character,  and  comes 
out  "  skinned  but  a  little  wholesome  enforcement 
of  the  good  law  that  we  have,  would  afford  the  pro- 
tection for  which  it  was  designed. 

To  single  out  a  few  of  these  notorious  places,  in 
which  pocket  and  often  life  are  equally  in  danger,  for 
suppression,  is  absurd  and  unjust.  The  up-town,  aris- 
tocratic hells,  are  as  baneful  in  their  influence,  and  as 
wide-reaching,  as  the  nether  hells,  and  not  one  of  the 
whole  number  should  be  permitted  to  live  and  thrive 
in  our  midst.  Night  and  day  these  gates  that  lead 
literally  down  to  hell,  are  wide  open  to  all  who  have 
money  to  risk,  and  were  it  possible  to  sum  up  in  a 
single  statement,  the  amount  of  capital,  reputation, 
happiness  and  health,  that  go  to  swell  the  total  of  ruin 
for  a  single  year,  it  would  reveal  a  record  of  the  most 
frightful  and  damning  character. 

Statistics  on  this  point  are  out  of  the  question,  any 
accurate  computation  of  the  pecuniary  losses  alone 
being  impossible.  But  the  saddest,  most  melancholy 
side  of  the  story  of  play  in  this  and  all  other  places, 
has  yet  to  be  told,  because  it  relates  solely  to  a  class 
of  victims  who  have  passed  slowly  but  surely  from  an 
honorable  business  and  reputable  social  life,  into  that  of 
the  gambler.    Any  well  posted  man  in  this  dark,  de- 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  Xew  York  295 


moralizing,  fatal  business  of  chance,  can  point  to  some 
friend  or  acquaintance,  who  begun  life  with  all  that 
could  render  life  desirable,  but  who,  overtaken  on  the 
way  by  a  passion  for  cards,  sunk  one  after  another  into 
irretrievable  disgrace  and  ruin — fortune,  home,  wife, 
children — all  lipon  the  altar  of  faro.  A  walk  up  or 
down  Broadway  on  any  sunny  day,  will  disclose  at 
least  a  hundred  human  wrecks,  moving  listlessly  along 
with  the  crowd,  gaunt,  ghastly,  and  threadbare,  who 
have  forsaken  for  the  gaming  table,  in  a  few  short 
years,  profession,  business,  honor,  a  high  place  in  social 
iife,  and  at  last,  life  itself. 

~No  valid  excuse  can  be  pleaded  in  extenuation  of 
the  fact,  that  these  places  are  not  suppressed.  Their 
locality  in  every  individual  case,  is  well  known  to  the 
police.  The  difficulty  of  obtaining  evidence,  some- 
times stupidly  given  as  a  reason  that  no  arrests  are 
made,  is  worse  than  absurd.  The  police  have  access 
to  these  places  at  all  times,  and  can,  at  any  moment, 
obtain  the  necessary  evidence  to  convict  the  whole 
crowd  of  faro  bankers,  at  a  single  swoop.  That  a  duty 
so  entirely  easy  of  accomplishment  is  not  performed, 
is  due  to  two  causes  chiefly,  an  inefficient  and  corrupt 
city  government,  and  the  legal  enforcement  that  can 
come,  if  it  comes  at  all,  in  the  absence  of  such  govern- 
ment, from  an  improved  tone  of  the  public  morals. 
When  that  arrives,  and  there  is  great  need  of  it  just 
now  in  this  great,  overburdened,  misgoverned  metropo- 
lis, an  improved  condition  of  things  in  this  direction 
will  be  the  result.  The  daily  routine  of  these  social 
abominations  is  in  itself  a  tragedy  that  never  ends. 
The  players  are  the  actors,  and  one  by  one  the  stars 
pass  from  the  stage  to  be  heard  of  no  more  forever. 
The  means  and  capacity  for  play  once  exhausted,  there 


296         Gambling  "Retts"  of  New  York. 


is  but  a  brief  interval  between  the  victim  and  the  grave 
that  awaits  him,  a  gap  now  and  then  suddenly  closed 
by  poison  or  the  pistol. 

"New  Yorkers  remember  well  the  recent  case  of  a 
once  rich  and  prominent  business  man  from  Buffalo, 
who,  in  a  few  short  weeks,  sunk  himself  and  fortune 
into  the  vortex  of  faro,  in  this  city.  He  came  with 
wealth,  social  position,  and  an  honorable  name,  and 
went  back  a  ruined,  heart-broken  beggar.  The  suicides 
that  result  from  losses  in  play,  are  perhaps  greater  in 
number  than  from  any  other  single  cause,  though  they 
are  not  always  credited  to  this  source,  but  occasionally 
one  occurs  that  becomes  the  town  talk  for  a  day,  a 
mere  ripple  upon  the  ever-open  current  of  the  gambler's 
existence. 

It  is  but  a  few  months  since  that  an  old  habitue  of  a 
gambling  hell,  on  Broadway,  near  Spring  street,  saun- 
tered into  his  old  haunt  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, at  a  moment  when  the  excitement  of  the  game 
had  risen  to  a  climax,  that  was  almost  spectral  in  its 
intensity.  Eyes  that  rarely  glared  with  rage,  but 
which  wore  usually  an  expression  of  coolness,  the  result 
of  long  discipline  of  both  the  feelings  and  the  facial 
muscles,  burned  in  their  sockets.  All  restraint  was  for 
the  moment  removed,  and  the  whole  hell  gleamed  like 
pandemonium  itself,  with  the  fires  of  the  pit  that  pas- 
sion had  filled.  No  one  heeded  the  old  player,  once  a 
prince  in  the  establishment,  as  he  threw  himself  into 
an  easy  chair  at  one  of  the  supper  tables.  The  game 
finished,  there  was  a  brief  lull,  in  which  the  silence  of 
death  reigned  supreme.  This  was  followed  by  a  hum 
of  voices,  intermingled  with  a  stray  oath  from  a  heavy 
loser.  Wine  and  cigars  are  ordered  for  a  party  at  a 
supper  table,  and  in  a  few  moments  all  were  seated 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York.  297 


around  it,  when  a  scene  of  hilarity  began,  rarely  wit- 
nessed even  in  a  down-town  gambling  house.  As  the 
wine  went  round,  the  old  gambler,  who  had  until  then 
passed  unnoticed,  rose  and  moved  toward  the  table 
at  which  the  party  sat.  He  was  recognized  and  pressed 
to  drink.  Declining  the  seat  proffered  him,  he  staggered 
to  the  bar  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room,  called  for  a 
glass  of  whisky,  drank  it,  and  then  placing  a  pistol  to 
his  temple,  blew  out  his  brains  before  any  person  in 
the  room  could  reach  him. 

His  career  had  been  marked  by  all  the  vicisitudes 
that  follow  close  upon  each  other  in  the  career  of  a 
gambler,  who  has  come  to  the  business  from  a  position 
of  honor  and  pecuniary  independence.  Day  by  day 
the  passion  for  play  became  intensified,  until  hope 
vanished,  and  despair  and  the  pistol  closed  the  scene. 
Is  one  save  those  who  have  suffered  from  it,  know  any- 
thing  of  the  bewildering  fascination  that  lures  such  as 
these  on  to  the  ruin  that  must  come  sooner  or  later. 

The  writer  of  this  remembers  well  a  case  similar  in 
its  results,  though  different  in  a  single  circumstance. 
It  was  that  of  a  teacher  in  a  small  town  in  the  interior 
of  this  state,  who  had  made  a  handsome  competency 
in  his  business,  when  the  death  of  a  near  relation  of 
large  wealth,  and  of  whom  he  was  sole  heir,  added  a 
large  fortune  to  what  he  had  already  amassed.  Up  to 
this  time  his  habits  had  been  unexceptionable,  as  are 
usually  those  of  his  profession.  Suddenly,  and  with- 
out any  apparent  cause  for  it,  he  was  seized  with  a 
passion  fur  cards  and  stock-gambling  at  the  same  time, 
and  after  going  on  a  while,  sold  out  his  school,  and  with 
his  family  took  up  a  residence  in  New  York.  His 
career  in  Wall  street  and  at  Chamberlain's  was  brief 
but  decisive  ;  at  the  end  of  six  months  he  had  not  a  dol- 


298         Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


lar  in  the  world.  His  only  passion  was  for  play  and 
speculation.  Through  all  this  short  but  painful  epi- 
sode, lie  had  preserved  the  simple  habits  of  his  early 
life,  his  only  dissipation  being  that  of  cards.  A  beggar 
at  last,  he  realized  for  the  first  the  real  situation,  but 
had  not  the  nerve  left  to  face  it,  and  a  few  mornings 
after  the  failure  of  his  last  venture,  hung  himself  in 
his  own  attic.  The  instances  I  have  given  are  but 
faint  echoes  from  a  realm  in  which  are  constantly  ring- 
ing the  death  knell  of  the  gambler's  last  hope  of  suc- 
cess, the  last  throw  of  the  fatal  card. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  gamblers  of  every 
grade  ply  their  trade  unmolested  at  every  turn  in  this 
city,  and  it  is  said  that  their  number  has  increased  fully 
one-half  since  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  in  1861. 
If  the  truth  were  told  just  as  it  is,  it  would  be  that  we 
have  fallen  upon  times  when  it  may  be  said  that  we 
are  a  nation  of  gamblers.  The  rage  for  money-getting 
has  so  spread  itself  over  every  class  of  business  men  in 
the  country,  from  the  smallest  shopkeeper  to  the  largest 
operator,  that  slow,  sure,  and  honest,  is  no  longer  the 
maxim  that  prevails  in  business  circles  as  once  it  did, 
but  in  its  place,  the  rule  now  is  to  get  money  at  all 
hazards'  and  by  any  indirection  however  questionable. 
The  average  business  nlorality  of  the  country  has 
reached  so  low  a  standard  that  sharpness  is  about  the 
only  quality  desired  in  those  who  are  to  win  their 
bread  by  it.  The  shrewd  but  dishonest  salesman  or 
confidential  clerk,  who  has  lost  his  place  on  account 
of  some  trick  that  transferred  what  belonged  to  his 
employer  to  his  own  pocket,  finds  no  difficulty,  if  he 
be  sharp  only,  in  finding  employment  elsewhere  where 
business  is  conducted  npon  his  plan  of  doing  it.  The 
tricks  which  merchants  employ  to  sell  their  wares,  the 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  iVew  Yorlc.  299 


short  weights,  the  lie  as  to  the  quality  and  cost  of  the 
article,  have  become  so  common  that  the  purchaser  no 
longer  expects  to  get  the  worth  of  his  money  for  any- 
thing that  he  buys,  and  submits  to  petty  swindles 
every  day  of  his  life  with  a  meekness  that  is  marvel- 
lous. It  is  only  when  some  daring  business  thief  goes 
for  our  pocket-book  in  a  lump,  in  the  way  of  a  swindle, 
that  we  venture  to  offer  a  remonstrance.  The  twist- 
ings  and  tortuosities,  the  shirkings  and  pilferings  of 
Wall  street,  have  extended  themselves  to  the  country 
generally,  insomuch  that  business  is  but  another  name 
for  some  trick  or  device.  It  is  this  general  laxity  of 
business  morals  that  is  in  part,  at  least,  responsible  for 
that  nondescript  half  gambler  and  half  business  man 
which  we  call 

"  SKINNER." 

The  skinner  is  a  spawn  of  the  swindles  that  have 
become  so  common  of  late  that  they  have  ceased  al- 
most to  occupy  public  attention.  A  defalcation  that 
changes  a  half  million  of  dollars  from  one  pocket  into 
another  is  the  theme  of  a  paragraph  in  our  morning 
papers,  but  beyond  that  it  scarcely  excites  a  ripple  of 
interest.  Even  the  victim  pockets  the  loss  with  a  feel- 
ing, that  he  is  not  much  better  than  the  clerk  who  has 
robbed  him.  The  skinner  is  emphatically  a  denizen 
of  Wall  street.  He  hovers  over  it  like  a  bird  of  ill- 
omen  over  its  carrion  prey.  He  is  not  a  man  of  capi- 
tal, but  a  man  of  brains.  He  is  a  gambler  who  finds 
his  victims  among  thieves,  strange  to  say,  and  so 
sharp  is  he,  that  he  beats  the  thieves  themselves,  and 
hence  may  be  set  down  as  the  most  finished  of 
outlaws.  Those  who  know  this  species  of  the  genus 
homo  best,  say  that  his  facility  of  invention  is  such 
that  he  never  does  the  same  thing  twice  alike.  If 


300         Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  Yovlc. 


there  lias  been  a  bond  robbery,  especially  coupon 
bonds,  the  cream  of  the  accomplished  thief's  plunder, 
he  turns  up  in  the  most  unexpected  places,  and  pro- 
ceeds to  work  back  these  stolen  treasures  into  legiti- 
mate channels.  He  is  the  go-between,  standing  be- 
hind the  door,  it  is  true,  half  way  between  the  public 
and  the  original  thief,  and  having  the  bonds  in  his 
hat,  he  is  ready  to  commence  to  carry  on  for  a  brief 
period  a  little  business  on  his  own  account,  so  neces- 
sary is  it  that  these  coupon  bonds  be  got  back  into  the 
regular  channels  of  trade.  The  necessity  that  creates 
him,  is  the  means  of  his  protection  from  arrest.  The 
real  thief  dares  not  show  his  face,  but  the  skinner  is 
as  well  known  in  Wall  street  as  is  the  broker  of 
doubtful  reputation  with  whom  he  deals.  The  thief 
passes  the  spoils  at  a  certain  price  to  the  skinner,  who 
chips  off  his  commission  by  selling  them  at  a  slight 
advance  to  the  bogus  broker  who  puts  them  on  the 
market,  and  thus  the  whole  business  is  accomplished 
and  no  questions  asked. 

Sometimes  he  will  walk  into  the  office  of  a  broker 
with  what  purports  to  be  a  bundle  of  stolen  bonds 
under  his  arm.  A  bargain  is  quickly  struck  at  a  low 
figure,  the  money  paid  over,  when  it  is  found  that  the 
package  contained  but  one  genuine  bond.  The  skin- 
ner meantime  has  made  his  escape,  and  he  never  re- 
peats the  swindle  in  the  same  office. 

In  the  case  of  registered  bonds.  To  sell  these  is 
impossible,  but  by  altering  names  and  numbers  he  can 
take  in  a  partner,  effect  a  loan  upon  them,  and  then 
withdraw  his  bank  account,  leaving  the  bank  to  take 
care  of  itself.  A  full  history  of  this  sharpest  of  sharp- 
ers would  fill  a  volume.  We  sketch  him  as  we  run 
through  the  gambling  fraternity,  because  we  look  upon 


Gambling  "Ilells  "  of  New  Fork.  301 


bim  as  its  offshoot,  a  little  lower  down  in  the  scale,  it 
is  true,  but  still  a  casual  acquaintance.  He  is  the  ori- 
ginator of  the  "  check  swindle,"  it  is  said,  the  most 
transparent  and  yet  the  most  successful  fraud  ever  prac- 
ticed upon  the  mercantile  world,  and  one  that  is  still 
practiced  almost  every  day.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive 
how  any  ordinary  business  man  or  firm  can  be  indu- 
ced to  pay  over  to  a  stranger  the  difference  between 
the  amount  of  a  bill  of  goods  sold  to  him  and  the 
check  that  he  presents  in  payment,  but  so  it  is,  and 
as  the  swindle  repeats  itself,  the  enigma  remains  un- 
solved. 

We  consign  this  sharper  to  the  tender  mercies  of 
our  police,  who  will  doubtless  prove  as  tender  to  him 
in  the  future  as  they  have  been  in  the  past,  so  regard- 
ful indeed  that  his  face  will  never  be  seen  in  a  court 
of  justice  as  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods,  though  he  re- 
ceives little  else  during  the  course  of  a  whole  career 
of  crime. 

Another  striking  evidence  of  the  utter  indifference 
of  the  public  to  a  moral  nuisance  that  ought  long  ago 
to  have  been  driven  from  our  streets,  is  the  Lottery 
swindle.  To  sell  a  lottery  ticket  in  this  state  is  a  crime 
by  the  statute,  punishable  by  fine  or  imprisonment, 
or  both  at  the  discretion  of  the  judge.  There  are  few 
offences  more  deserving  of  public  execration  than  this, 
and  none  has  accorded  it  a  more  general  contempt, 
and  yet,  in  spite  of  the  law,  and  an  overwhelming 
hatred  of  the  whole  villainous  business,  there  is  no 
class  of  men  on  our  streets  that  drive  a  more  thriving 
business  than  the  lottery  ticket  venders.  No  attempt 
at  concealment  is  made,  and  the  swindle,  under  the 
very  thin  disguise  of  "  exchange  office,"  flourishes  in 
every  quarter  of  the  city.    Of  all  the  games  of  chance, 


302 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


none  has  half  the  power  to  fascinate  like  this.  We 
know  persons  sound  on  all  other  topics,  absolutely  in- 
sane on  the  subject  of  lotteries.  The  very  sight  of  a 
bit  of  lottery  pasteboard,  or  a  "  scheme,"  rouses  the 
devil  of  cupidity  within  them  to  an  extent  that  is  most 
marvelous.  The  twentieth  part  of  a  full  ticket  will  be 
worn  by  one  of  these  infatuated  gamblers  as  a  kind 
of  charm,  or  talisman,  a  perpetual  token  of  good  luck. 
The  mischief  of  all  this  infatuation  is,  that  it  takes 
possession  of  a  large  class  unable  to  bear  any  illegiti- 
mate strain  upon  their  slender  purses.  Working  men 
and  sewing  women  spend  more  money  in  these  places 
than  any  other  class.  Thousands  pinch  themselves  in 
every  conceivable  way  to  get  the  coveted  ticket  or  sec- 
tion of  a  ticket,  that  must  surely,  they  fondly  believe, 
bring  them  ultimate  independence  and  ease.  The 
disease,  for  such  it  really  is,  grows  by  what  it  feeds 
on,  and  comes  in  time  to  take  complete  possession  of 
its  victim.  To  resist  it  now,  is  impossible,  and  a  por- 
tion of  each  year's  earnings  is  set  aside  to  feed  the 
maw  of  a  monster  that  rarely  gives  anything  in  re- 
turn. 

But  the  vice  is  confined  not  to  the  poor  alone,  it 
reaches  all  classes  and  conditions.  The  pocket  of  the 
threadbare  unfortunate,  the  pauper,  the  beggar  in  tat- 
ters, the  merchant,  the  lawyer  and  the  clergyman  even, 
is  often  the  constant  receptacle  of  an  "Havana"  or 
"  Kentucky  "  scheme.  If  the  victim  is  too  poor  to 
purchase  a  whole  ticket  in  a  foreign  lottery,  which 
costs  $32,  he  contents  himself  with  a  part  of  one,  or 
invests  in  the  cheaper  home  article.  The  ticket  he 
must  have,  for  it  keeps  burning  within  him  the  un- 
quenchable fire  of  hope,  investing  even  the  dreariest 
life  with  a  dream  of  wealth  grander  than  would  be  the 


Gambling  "Eells"  of  New  Fork.  303 


reality  itself,  should  it  ever  come  as  a  fact.  If  there  is  a 
fiction  that  mortals  indulge,  grander  than  all  others,  it 
is  that  which  plays  around  the  brain  of  a  dupe  who  is 
crazed  with  the  possession  of  a  lottery  ticket. 

Let  any  one  who  has  never  witnessed  the  entire  power 
of  chance  over  a  certain  order  of  mind,  run  into  the  lot- 
tery office  on  Broadway,  near  St.  Paul's  Church,  on  the 
day  set  apart  for  a  drawing.  The  place,  the  crowd, 
especially  the  latter,  is  a  study  in  itself.  The  most 
conspicuous  object  is  the  blackboard,  upon  which  are 
written  the  numbers  after  the  drawings  have  been 
made.  Let  us  enter.  What  a  motley  crowd  of  anx- 
ious faces !  A  glance  reveals  the  fact  that  they  are 
from  almost  every  condition  in  life,  from  the  man  of 
wealth,  anxious  to  increase  it  by  chance,  to  the  poor, 
forlorn,  seedy  purchaser,  who  has  come  for  the  last 
time,  perhaps,  to  know  his  fate.  He  is  not  long  in 
discovering  it,  for  it  comes  to  him  in  the  usual  form  of 
a  blank.  With  trembling  lip  and  blanched  face,  he 
totters  out  and  disappears  in  the  crowd,  neither  a  wiser 
nor  a  better  man  from  the  bitter  experience ;  indeed, 
this  passion  for  lottery  gambling  is  the  one  experience 
of  life  from  which  no  benefit  is  derived,  even  from  a 
thousand  repetitions. 

The  well-to-do  speculator,  who  has  not  yet  got  down 
to  a  lottery  ticket  as  his  only  wealth,  runs  carelessly 
in  on  his  way  u  down  town,"  reads  his  fate  on  the 
blackboard,  and  passes  on  with  the  old  "  better  luck 
next  time,"  running  through  his  brain,  as  the  only 
crumb  of  consolation  to  be  extracted  from  the  ex- 
perience. As  we  scan  further  this  mournful  gathering 
of  human  odds  and  ends,  pity  takes  the  place  of  cen- 
sure. Life  is  a  duel  at  best  with  these,  or  with  most 
of  them,  and  there  is,  after  all,  method  in  the  madness 


304         GamUlng  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


that  craves  riches  for  its  own  sake,  and  without  the 
trouble  of  delving  for  a  lifetime  to  acquire  it.  It  is 
easy  for  a  self-possessed  looker-on  to  discover  the  weak 
point  in  the  make-up  of  each  of  these  enthusiasts,  for 
they  are  just  this,  but  in  itself  the  passion  seems  harm- 
less enough.  It  is  acquisitiveness  sharpened  by  oppor- 
tunity into  a  mad  desire  to  gratify  in  ways  not  only 
illegitimate,  but  hopeless,  that  works  the  mischief  in 
lottery  gambling.  A  stronger  moral  sense  in  the  com- 
munity, would  shut  up  all  these  places,  and  thus  the 
temptation  of  weak  minds  be  removed.  At  all  events, 
stupid  as  is  the  folly,  the  sin  of  it  lies  at  the  door  of 
the  public  and  those  who  execute,  or  fail,  as  in  this 
cast-,  to  execute  its  commands. 

A  brooding,  sensitive  mind,  exasperated  by  poverty, 
must  be  allowed,  in  measuring  its  responsibility,  a 
wide  latitude,  in  a  matter  that  appears  so  vital  to  it  as 
that  of  the  chances  on  a  scheme  of  chance.  These 
gamblers  are  law-breakers,  it  is  true,  but  the  public  is 
a  law-breaker  as  well,  with  this  difference  as  to  pun- 
ishment, that  it  cannot  sutler  as  an  individual,  and 
hence  the  breaches  and  infractions  that  it  constantly  per- 
mits. The  public  opens  these  lottery  doors,  and  here 
at  this  moment,  in  this  one,  can  be  seen  a  multitude 
which  represents  in  miniature,  thriftlessness  and  vaga- 
bondism, side  by  side  with  the  delvers  in  mechanical 
and  other  branches  of  labor,  all  waiting  with  quick- 
ened pulse,  and  tumultuous  brain,  the  lucky  number 
that  is  to  lift  them  out  of  a  life-long  pecuniary  slough. 

The  woman  you  see  there,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room,  in  faded  dress  and  a  face  petrified  by  some  great 
grief,  has  probably  come  here  for  the  hundredth  time, 
and  each  time  on  a  fool's  errand,  as  wre,  who  look  on 
indifferently,  say,  but  to  her,  poor  creature,  the  errand 


GamUing  "Hells"  of  New  York.  305 


has  seemed  anything  but  that  of  a  fool.  Each  visit 
marked  a  point  in  her  forlorn  existence,  that  will  never 
be  blotted  from  her  memory.  For  years  without 
number,  a  portion  of  her  scanty  earnings  have  gone 
to  enrich  the  cormorants  who  fatten  upon  spoils 
wrung  from  the  very  heart  of  poverty  and  want. 
Could  she  by  any  miracle  scrape  together  the  money 
she  has  thrown  to  this  lottery  Moloch,  she  would  pass 
from  rags  to  competency  at  a  bound.  Too  late  for 
her,  at  least,  and  she  passes  out  into  the  pavement 
crowd,  bearing  still  another  burden,  inevitable,  and 
now  irresistible.  No  distress  of  mind  or  body  could 
still  this  life-long  passion  in  her  heart.  She  has  hug- 
ged the  delusion  with  the  intensity  that  a  mother 
clings  to  her  babe  when  all  else  is  lost.  She  has  be- 
come wedded  to  a  blank,  and  when  she  has  drawn  the 
last  one,  hope  will  beam  as  brightly  to  her  as  it  did 
when,  with  devouring  eye  and  longing  heart,  she  be- 
held her  first  lottery  ticket. 

Yonder  is  a  young  man  come  to  know  the  fate  of  his 
first  venture  in  lottery  gambling.  If  you  met  him  on 
the  street,  you  would  exclaim  instinctively,  "  just  the 
timber  of  which  lottery  fools  are  made."  How  guile- 
less and  innocent  the  face,  the  great  blue  eye,  swim- 
ming in  the  liquid  dew  of  youth  and  hope,  sees  nothing 
as  it  gazes,  save  the  grand  vision  of  future  wealth  that 
has  now  full  possession  of  him.  The  announcement  of 
his  first  failure  is  attended  with  a  slight  change  of  col- 
or,  a  nervous  twitch  of  the  eye,  and  then  he  too  is 
gone.  He  will  come  again,  and  often,  for  the  business 
thrives  upon  such  as  he.  The  hard-fisted  mechanic 
you  see  there,  is  an  old  stager  in  the  business,  as  are 
usually  the  men  of  his  class.  Seeing  nothing  ahead 
for  a  lifetime,  beyond  the  average  week's  wages,  and 


306         GamUhg  "Hells"  of  New  Ybrh 


being  destitute  of  the  ambition  that  knows  no  such 
word  as  defeat,  he  is  one  who  succumbed  to  fate  at 
starting,  and  who,  in  the  place  of  effort,  has  substituted 
chance.  Such  as  he  are  not  hurt  much  by  lotteries. 
Whatever  his  opportunities  in  life  might  be,  he  would 
prefer  the  daily  rut  to  any  new  path  that  he  must  mark 
out  for  himself,  and  so,  pocketing  his  loss,  he  coolly  re- 
invests, and  joins  the  procession  of  failures  that  has 
moved  on  before  him.  Fatal  infatuation,  but  of  a  kind 
to  which  most  of  us  cling  with  a  tenacity  stronger  even 
than  life  itself. 

These  portraits,  drawn  from  life,  faintly  sketched  it 
is  true,  stand,  nevertheless,  for  millions  of  similar  ones 
whose  originals  have  been  lured  on  from  year  to  year 
in  pursuit  of  this  lottery  ignis  fataus,  and  why  should 
we  wonder  at  it  ?  It  is  said  that  every  mind,  however 
weak,  has  some,  to  it,  grand  ideal,  and  what  realm  of 
the  ideal  more  fascinating  than  that  which  wealth 
peoples  with  its  own  creations?  What  valleys  are 
fairer,  and  what  castles  more  airy  than  those  which 
nestle  in  the  brain  of  the  man  or  woman  who  can  find 
all  of  them  in  a  lottery  ticket  ? 

What,  after  all,  is  there  to  wonder  at  in  this  pitiable 
exhibition,  to  prevent  which,  nothing  absolutely  is  be- 
ing done  !  In  a  country  where  every  avenue  leading 
to  wealth  and  distinction  is  thrown  wide  open  to  the 
son  of  the  poorest  as  well  as  that  of  the  richest,  the 
most  provoking  anomalies  and  contradictions  are  met 
on  every  hand.  Self-inflated  wealth  jostles  and  elbows 
gaunt  poverty  on  every  street ;  civilization  in  its  very 
highest  phases,  stands  out  in  striking  contrast  with  the 
lowest  depths  of  barbarism.  Superabundant  elegance 
rustles  under  silken  canopies,  while  want  herds  to- 
gether like  savages,  yet  all  members  of  God's  great 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York.  307 


family  !  One  side  reveling  amidst  a  plenty  that  rises  in 
its  self-exaltation  to  heaven,  while  penury  sinks  unaided 
to  a  point  so  near  hell,  that  the  pit  ceases  to  have  any 
terrors  for  it.  Entering  life  under  a  cloud,  the  man 
who  is  born  to  poverty  is  seized  with  the  unrest  that 
never  ceases,  the  worm  that  never  dies,  and  when  the 
tangible  has  slipped  from  his  grasp,  he  seizes,  as  a  last 
resort,  upon  any  straw  that  promises  to  float  him  on  a 
little  further  over  the  great,  to  him,  dead  sea  of  exist- 
ence, and  it  is  thus  that  the  lottery  ticket  often  comes, 
as  the  fuel  that  kindles  into  new  life  the  last  slumber- 
ing ember  on  his  hearth. 

The  lotteries  that  flourish  in  this  city  are  the  Hav- 
ana, carried  on  under  the  Cuban  government,  the  Ken- 
tucky State  Lottery,  and  the  Missouri  State  Lottery. 
All  are  unmitigated  swindles,  but  yet  are  allowed  to 
ply  their  trade  with  us  as  though  they  were  Sunday- 
schools,  instead  of  the  vile  things  that  they  are,  all  we 
presume  in  furtherance  of  our  peculiar  notions  of  civi- 
lization and  Christianity.  The  home  lotteries  are 
drawn  every  day,  and  the  prizes  being  small,  are 
patronized  largely  by  people  of  small  means.  The 
men  who  carry  on  this  business  in  this  country  are 
gamblers,  sharpers,  and  prominent  sporting  men,  and 
the  business  done  and  profits  realized  are  enormous. 
The  latter  alone  are  estimated  at  three-quarters  of  a 
million  yearly.  That  they  are  swindles  in  which  the 
seller  gets  all  the  money  and  the  purchaser  of  the 
tickets  nothing,  when  taken  as  a  class,  the  prizes  being 
so  rare  that  they  form  really  no  proportion  to  the  pro- 
fits, is  certain.  The  large  amount  of  money  required  to 
work  these  schemes  comes  from  the  fact  that  the  ticket 
sellers  get  a  large  commission  on  their  sales.  These 
last  are  issued  to  them  in  lots,  and  are  sent  over  the 


303         Gambling  "Hells"  of  Xew  York. 


country  by  combinations  that  follow  each  other  in  sets. 
Before  the  hour  for  drawing  arrives,  all  tickets  in  the 
hands  of  agents,  unsold,  are  returned  to  the  principal 
office,  so  that  the  numbers  that  would  draw  the  prizes 
are  as  likely  to  be  in  the  packages  returned  as  else- 
where, even  supposing  the  scheme  to  be  an  honest 
one. 

To  look  for  honesty  in  such  a  business  is  not  only 
useless  but  absurd.  Such  a  thing  as  an  honest  lottery 
scheme,  outside  of  those  temporarily  established  at  our 
Church  fairs,  and  at  the  fairs  of  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Associations,  and  other  benevolent  bodies, 
has  probably  never  been  witnessed.  In  any  and  all 
cases  the  numbers  are  so  arranged  that  the  prizes  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  proprietors.  Were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  a  prize,  when  drawn,  is  one  of  the  means  by 
which  the  business  is  kept  alive,  they  would  be  still 
rarer  than  they  are.  A  prize  of  $2,500  drawn  in  a 
country  town  of  2,500  inhabitants,  where  gossip  travels 
on  wings,  will  send  fifty  or  more  fools  for  tickets  for 
the  next  drawing.  We  have  never  seen,  and  it  is  not 
likely  we  ever  shall  see,  such  an  account  of  the  busi- 
ness as  shall  show  in  any  given  drawing  the  proportion 
that  prizes  bear  to  the  ticket  sales  of  the  scheme.  One 
such  exhibit  would  be  likely  to  cure  even  the  crazy 
purchasers  of  their  mad  folly. 

It  must  be  set  down  to  the  credit  of  the  buyers  of 
these  scraps  that  the  purpose  in  the  main  is  to  better 
their  condition.  When  fortune  has  frowned  on  an 
ambitious  young  man  for  example,  one  who  has  set  up 
in  life  a  decent  home  establishment,  and  he  desires  to 
keep  it  going,  what  wonder  that  the  lottery  ticket 
should  be  clutched  at  as  he  begins  to  run  down  hill 
with  no  power  to  bring  ill-fortune  to  a  halt  2 


Gambling  "Hells  "  of  New  York,  309 


That  picture-gallery  would  be  a  rare  one  that  could 
hang  on  its  walls  the  types  alone  of  the  distinct  classes 
that  buy  lottery-tickets  as  a  habit.  On  inspection  it 
would  be  found  that  the  faces  therein  would  stand  for 
every  phase  of  credulity  known  to  superstition.  The 
man  of  slender  means,  proud,  honest,  but  ambitious, 
would  be  likely  to  have  for  his  nearest  neighbor  the 
weak  one  who  ran  for  a  lotteiy-ticket  at  the  first 
approach  of  misfortune.  In  a  corner  would  be  seen 
the  cautious  buyer,  and  for  a  companion-piece  the  one 
who  made  the  most  noise  over  his  purchase  until  the 
blank  came,  and  who  then  subsided  until  the  means 
could  be  raised  for  another  venture.  The  man  most 
to  be  pitied  is  the  one  who  secured  a  small  prize  early 
in  his  career,  and  who  has  invested  to  no  purpose 
regularly  every  week  since.  His  life  lias  indeed  been 
a  blank  and  no  mistake.  Another  picture  represents 
the  dashing  victim,  who  always  went  for  his  ticket 
as  a  terrier  goes  for  a  rat,  certain  always  that  he  will 
shake  the  fickle  goddess  into  submission,  and  forever 
after  woo  her  to  some  purpose,  but  alas,  he  too  turns 
out  a  dupe,  no  better  than  the  rest,  save  in  the  courage 
with  which  he  keeps  up  the  chase.  High  above  all  is 
the  fool  who  has  never  allowed  himself  to  "  see  the 
new  moon  over  his  left  shoulder,"  who  is  a  firm 
believer  in  chance,  and  his  own  power  to  control  it. 
His  faith  in  himself,  and  his  ability  to  discover  the 
combination  that  contains  the  coveted  prize,  is  some- 
thing marvelous  and  altogether  inspiring  to  those  who 
follow  his  lead,  and  they  are  legion.  This  man 
devoured  the  "  Wheel  of  Fortune "  at  starting,  the 
wheel  that  turned  him  into  a  madman,  and  which  he 
still  reads  at  odd  times  by  way  of  a  reminder  of  past 
unlucky  days,  soon  to  be  turned,  all  of  them,  into 


310  Gambling  "Hells  "  of  New  York. 


the  one  supremely  fortunate  one  that  shall  bring 
him  $30,000. 

Mr.  Crapsey,  in  his  chapter  on  "  Lottery  Gamblers," 
in  his  "  Nether  Side  of  New  York,"  thus  describes  the 
difference  in  character  between  the  home  lotteries  and 
the  Royal  Havana  Lottery  of  Cuba. 

"  The  former  are  formed  of  three  number  combina- 
tions, are  drawn  twice  each  day,  and  in  the  days  of 
wildcat  banks,  whatever  may  be  the  fact  now,  paid 
their  prizes  in  depreciated  paper  money.  The  Havana, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  a  single  number  lottery,  is  drawn 
only  once  in  every  seventeen  days,  and  pays  all  prizes 
in  gold.  As  a  lottery,  it  is  respectable,  but  although 
openly  advertised  by  three  firms  in  Wall  and  Broad 
streets,  calling  themselves  bankers,  it  is  nothing  but  a 
lottery.  I  am  not  familiar  with  its  working,  but  am 
assured  on  good  authority  that  it  is  honorably  man- 
aged. There  is  no  better  chance,  however,  for  the 
patrons  to  get  prizes  than  in  the  other  schemes,  and  I 
need  cite  no  stronger  proof  of  the  truth  of  this  asser- 
tion, than  the  fact  that  a  tenth  of  the  extra  capital 
prize  of  $200,000  gold  sold  in  this  city  in  April  of 
1871,  was  advertised  by  one  of  the  bankers  alluded  to 
for  nearly  a  year  afterward.  But  while  the  Havana 
is  tolerable  as  compared  with  the  Kentucky,  there  are 
some  special  schemes  which  are  much  worse  than  the 
latter,  as  they  are  usually  barefaced  swindles,  organ- 
ized and  managed  with  the  sole  purpose  of  cheating. 
There  is  always  one  or  more  of  these  enterprises  before 
the  public,  openly  advertised  and  never  interfered 
with.  They  usually  take  the  shape  of  gift  concerts, 
and  always  pretend  to  be  for  the  benefit  of  some 
charity  or  legitimate  industrial  enterprise.  Some  of 
them  are  on  the  most  gigantic  scale,  and  permeate  the 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York.  311 


whole  country,  while  others  are  petty  frauds,  and  in- 
tended to  swindle  only  the  metropolis.  The  Chicago 
fire  has  been  the  excuse  for  several,  and  the  exhaustion 
of  the  South  by  the  war,  gave  birth  to  scores,  of  which 
some  are  yet  in  existence,  appealing  by  huge  placards 
in  their  ofiices  to  the  credulity  of  the  people,  to  at 
once  enrich  themselves,  and  benefit  their  brethren  of 
the  South,  by  purchasing  tickets  in  the  '  Monster  Gift 
Concert,'  for  the  benefit  of  some  named  locality." 

A  drawing  in  the  Kentucky  Lottery,  as  witnessed 
by  the  author  himself,  is  thus  described  in  the  same 
chapter  : — "  The  wheel  was  of  glass,  and  stood  where 
all  the  spectators  could  see  that  at  the  commencement 
of  the  operation  it  was  absolutely  empty.  As  the  first 
step,  one  of  the  commissioners  picked  up  the  numbers 
from  one  to  seventy-eight  successively,  and  having 
held  them  up  to  the  view  of  the  audience,  which  on 
that  occasion  was  a  small  negro  boy  and  myself,  rolled 
up  the  pasteboards  on  which  the  numbers  were  printed, 
and  putting  each  in  a  small  brass  tube  open  at  both 
ends,  dropped  it  in  the  wheel.  When  all  the  numbers 
had  been  thus  disposed  of,  the  aperture  in  the  wheel 
was  closed  and  locked,  after  which  another  commis- 
sioner turned  the  wheel  rapidly  several  times  in  both 
directions,  so  as  to  mix  the  numbers  thoroughly.  A 
blind  boy,  whose  arms  were  bare  to  the  shoulder,  was 
then  led  up  to  the  wheel,  and  the  aperture  having 
been  opened,  thrust  in  his  hand,  took  out  one  of  the 
brass  tubes,  and  handed  it  to  one  of  the  three  com- 
missioners. This  official  took  out  the  pasteboard,  and 
having  displayed  the  number  upon  it,  called  it  out  to 
a  clerk,  who  wrote  it  down,  and  bellowed  it  in  his 
turn  to  a  telegraph  operator  standing  at  his  instru- 
ment in  a  remote  corner  of  the  room.    All  this  having 


312         Gambling  "Bells  "  of  New  York. 


been  done,  the  wheel  was  again  closed,  and  turned 
twice  around.  This  operation  with  the  one  before 
described  was  repeated  until  all  the  thirteen  numbers 
of  the  scheme  had  been  drawn,  and  the  proceedings 
were  then  concluded  by  the  commissioner  signing  a 
certificate,  stating  the  time  and  place  of  the  drawing, 
the  numbers  placed  in  the  wheel,  what  ones  were 
drawn,  and  the  order  in  which  they  were  drawn." 

A  petty,  but  equally  barefaced  swindle  is  the 
"  policy  "  game.  The  cheapness  of  it  constitutes  its 
chief  power  for  mischief.  Armed  with  a  dollar,  a 
poor  devil  can  gamble  all  day  on  it  in  one  of  these 
places.  The  shops  of  this  swindle  are  mostly  in 
Thompson  and  Sullivan  streets,  and  are  filled  all  day 
with  a  crowd  composed  of  all  colors,  characters,  and 
nationalities.  The  odds,  of  course,  are  nearly  all 
against  the  player.  A  player  has  a  'saddle'  when 
any  two  of  the  numbers  he  selects  are  drawn,  a  4 gig' 
when  three  of  his  numbers  come  out,  and  a  4  horse ' 
when  four  appear ;  but  he  has  a  better  chance  to 
acquire  Dexter,  or  any  other  carefully  guarded  steed, 
than  he  has  to  attain  this  highly  apocryphal  animal. 
A  '  flat-gig '  is  three  numbers  played  for  all  three  to 
be  drawn,  and  gets  its  name,  I  presume,  from  the  fact 
that  it  is  played  by  nobody  but  fools  who  are  known 
in  the  dialect  common  to  detectives  and  thieves,  as 
'  flats.'  Yet  no  phase  of  c  policy '  is  more  common, 
and  there  are  thousands  who  trust  to  luck  so  im- 
plicitly, that  they  will  persist  in  playing  the  gig-flat, 
when  by  also  playing  for  the  saddles,  of  which  there 
are  three  in  the  gig,  they  might  increase  their  chances 
of  winning  something,  to  a  prodigious  extent. 

Lest  the  general  reader  may  be  unable  to  fathom 
this  mystery,  I  will  illustrate  it  by  supposing  that  the 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York.  313 


player  selects  7-18-25,  and  plays  them  for  the  flat- 
gig.  To  win  anything,  all  the  numbers  must  be 
drawn ;  but  suppose  he  also  saddles  the  numbers,  he 
will  win  proportionately  if  either  7-18,  7-25,  or  25-18 
happen  to  come  from  the  wheel.  He  may  again 
increase  his  chances,  by  also  playing  for  the  single 
numbers;  and  if  he  should  play  each  of  them,  say  for 
one  dollar,  the  saddles  for  fifty  cents  each,  and  the  gig 
for  twenty-five  cents  only,  he  would  be  indulging  in  a 
tolerably  sensible  gambling  operation. 

Policy  is  but  another  name  for  an  infatuation  that 
draws  to  it  by  far  the  largest  number  of  players.  The 
negroes  of  Sullivan,  Thompson  and  Wooster  streets 
take  to  it  as  naturally  as  their  white  brethren,  and  on 
a  capital  of  fifty  cents  will  ride  on  '  saddles '  and 
i horses'  for  a  whole  day,  which  is  certainly  cheap 
riding,  and  for  the  time  the  journey  lasts,  very  pleasant 
and  exciting  to  the  rider.  As  it  reaches  a  larger  class 
than  any  other,  and  poorer,  policy  works  more  mischief 
than  any  other  branch  of  the  chance  business.  The 
well-to-do  pursue  it  to  impoverishment,  while  the 
slothful  and  the  lazy  and  the  unthrifty  cling  to  it  with 
the  little  hope  that  survives  ill  fortune.  How  well  they 
thrive  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  about  four  hundred  of 
these  are  in  full  blast  at  this  time  in  this  city.  Four 
hundred  banks,  whose  deposits  are  never  returned  to 
the  depositor  !  The  million  or  more  of  dollars  that  is 
annually  sunk  into  this  vortex,  is  a  million  wrung 
chiefly  from  those  who  have  never  had  a  dime  to  throw 
away  upon  anything.  Certain  of  success,  they  pore 
over  the  i  Wheel  of  Fortune  '  or  '  Book  of  Dreams,' 
such  as  can  read,  until  the  hour  for  drawing  comes, 
only  to  realize  a  fresh  postponment  of  success.  Now 
and  then- a  raid  will  be  made  upon  these  smaller  con- 


3U  Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 

corns  by  the  police,  but  if  driven  out  of  one  quarter, 
it  is  with  the  understanding  that  they  can  set  up  in  a 
new  one  if  they  choose.  The  proprietors  are,  many  of 
them,  small-fry  politicians,  very  useful  to  the  man  who 
wants  to  be  alderman  or  something  else  of  his  ward, 
and  these  are  the  very  fellows  who  have  plenty  of 
time  to  do  their  dirty  work.  The  swindle,  palpable  as 
it  is,  and  carried  on  in  utter  defiance  of  the  law,  is  car- 
ried on  nevertheless  by  those  who  create  the  law- 
makers, and  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  for  a  moment  that 
an  alderman  or  a  member  of  the  state  legislature 
would  permit  himself  to  strike  even  his  most  remote 
political  ancestor,  and  so  year  after  year  this  vice,  like 
a  hundred  others,  goes  on  undisturbed  in  our  midst. 
The  whole  business  of  lottery  gambling  is  carried  on 
without  the  slightest  attempt  at  concealment,  so  that 
an  array  of  facts  sufficient  for  an  arrest  can  be  picked 
up  any  day  that  would  send  a  whole  army  of  these 
law-breakers  and  robbers  into  exile.  When  political 
rings  go  to  the  wall,  if  they  ever  do  in  this  Sodom  of 
ours,  and  the  people  succeed  to  their  true  estate,  with 
something  like  a  true  aj^preciation  of  their  duties  as 
citizens,  this  business  of  lottery-gambling,  together 
with  a  host  of  similar  outrages  upon  the  public,  will 
be  forced  to  hide  their  diminished  heads. 

As  thousands  of  persons  who  held  tickets  in  the  late 
Louisville  Library  swindle  believed  it  to  have  been 
honestly  conducted,  we  quote  from  the  columns  of  the 
Star  Spangled  Banner,  a  newspaper  published  at 
Hinsdale,  N.  EL,  an  account  of  the  drawing  by  a  cor- 
*  respondent  of  that  journal.     Writing  from  Louisville 

on  the  night  after  the  drawing,  he  thus  deseribes  it : 

"  Two  or  three  hundred  thousand  people  have  bits 
of  waste  paper  in  their  pocket-books  to-night,  repre- 


Gambling  "HeUa  "  of  New  York.  315 


Ben  ting  their  fully  and  gullibility  in  equal  proportions. 
As  an  observer  of  this  Louisville  Library  drawing  and 
its  surroundings — and  not  an  observer  holding  a  ticket 
either — I  must  £ay  that  it  lias  every  appearance  of 
being  a  stupendous  sham  and  humbug.  All  day  I 
have  watched  the  big  fraud  called  the  drawing,  except 
during  the  noon  intermission,  when  I  looked  through 
the  other  fraud  called  the  Public  Library  of  Kentucky. 
A  word  here  about  this  library.  The  lottery  adver- 
tisements say  the  library  has  50,000  volumes  and 
20,000  more  on  the  way.  The  highest  numbered  book 
I  could  find  on  the  shelves  did  not  reach  20,000,  Com- 
paring the  shelves  with  other  libraries  not  associated 
with  lotteries,  I  do  not  believe  there  are  15,000  volumes 
in  the  Louisville  affair.  Many  of  these  seem  to  have 
been  raked  out  of  second-hand  collections.  Trash  is 
profusely  abundant — such  as  duplicated  volumes  on 
the  Satro  tunnel — big  books,  and  about  as  valuable  as 
Patent  Office  reports.  I  asked  one  of  the  assistant 
librarians  for  the  catalogue.  He  said  the  institution 
didn't  have  any,  but  was  getting  one  up.  I  requested 
him  to  tell  me  how  many  books  were  in  the  library. 
His  reply  was  that  he  didn't  know,  but  that  a  great 
many  new  ones  had  been  ordered.  The  collection  of 
curiosities  attached  to  the  '  library '  is  well  enough  as  a 
begmning.  There  is  certainly  nothing  imposing  about 
it  yet.  The  library  itself  is  a  flabby  collection  of  odds 
and  ends,  that  wouldn't  fetch  $10,000  under  the  ham- 
mer. So  it's  not  into  books  the  tremendous  profits  of 
the  swindle  are  going. 

"  Where  $2  are  received  into  this  library  lottery, 
only  one  is  paid  out  in  prizes.  The  victim  virtually 
pays  a  $10  greenback  for  a  $5  greenback.  The  sale  of 
tickets  for  the  present  drawing  was  45,000,  at  $50  each. 


316         Gambling  "Ilells  "  of  New  York. 


This  gives  a  total  of  $2,250,000.  The  amount  paid  out 
in  prizes  is  just  one-half—  that  is,  $1,125,000.  The 
point  where  this  palpable  grab  catches  gulls  is  in  offer- 
ing a  few  heavy  prizes.  Believers  in  luck  are  nume- 
rous, and  with  benevolent  newspapers  to  allure  them 
with  easy  pictures  of  sudden  wealth,  they  rush  into  the 
snare  pell-mell.  The  question  is,  what  will  become 
of  the  $1,125,000  left  after  the  prizes  of  this  drawing 
are  settled  ?  Agents  selling  tickets  secure  ten  per  cent. 
Their  remuneration  therefore  amounts  to  $225,000. 
Put  advertising  and  printing  at  an  even  $100,000,  and 
other  expenses  at  $50,000.  This  will  leave  in  the 
hands  of  the  managers  the  immense  sum  of  $750,000. 
Does  anybody  believe  that  the  purchase  of  a  few  cart- 
loads of  shabby,  second-hand  books  can  account  for 
the  expenditure  of  over  one-hundredth  part  of  this 
sum  ?    Not  much. 

"  One  feature  of  the  drawing  to-day  looked  like  a 
bold  and  deh'ant  swindle.  Not  until  this  morning  did 
the  lottery  managers  make  a  public  statement  to  the 
effect  that  only  three-fourths  of  the  60,000  tickets  had 
been  sold,  and  that  all  the  prizes,  consequently, 
would  be  scaled  down  twenty-five  per  cent.  Of 
course  the  number  of  tickets  placed  in  the  wheel 
should  also  have  to  be  scaled  down  twenty -five  per  ct., 
that  is,  to  45,000.  The  Courier  Journal,  this  morning, 
announced  that  it  would  be  done.  But  it  wasn't  done. 
Sixty  thousand  tickets  went  into  the  wheel.  Here, 
then,  on  the  very  morning  of  the  drawing,  the  manag- 
ers made  an  alteration  in  their  plan  of  operations, 
which  was  worth  to  them  $375,000  in  cash.  Nice 
little  plum — quite  sufficient,  indeed,  to  invite  an  inves- 
tigation by  the  fooled  ticket  holders. 

"  Your  correspondent  was  one  of  the  audience  at  the 


Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York,  317 


drawing  in  the  Public  Library  Hall.  The  spectators 
numbered  about  1,500.  Many  of  them  were  country- 
men. Many  were  mechanics.  A  few  women,  some 
of  them  bowed  with  age,  were  present.  Even  inval- 
ids could  be  singled  out,  each  anxiously  waiting  to  hear 
that  he  had  made  his  eternal  fortune.  Almost  without 
exception  the  spectators  were  hard-working  men  and 
women.  The  intelligent  mercantile  classes  were 
scarcely  represented  at  all.  These  1,500  spectators 
held  their  own  numbers  in  their  fists  and  watched  the 
drawings  also  for  acquaintances.  And  how  man y  of 
that  large  audience  do  you  suppose  were  suddenly  en- 
riched during  the  day  ?  Not  one.  The  biggest  haul 
among  them  that  I  heard  of  was  a  tenth  of  $3,750. 

ikThe  drawing  began  about  8  A.  m.,  and  was  con- 
ducted decorously,  and  so  far  as  the  wheel  was  con- 
cerned, with  seeming  fairness.  The  stage  was  occupied 
by  gray-headed,  respectable  looking  men,  who,  some 
people  will  think,  might  be  a  great  deal  better  em- 
ployed in  their  declining  years.  Two  large  wheels, 
with  glass  sides,  were  kept  revolving.  One  of  these 
contained  60,000  cards,  numbered  from  one  upward. 
The  other  held  1,000  little  packages,  uniform  in  size 
and  appearance.  When  opened  each  package  was 
found  to  be  a  placard,  on  which  was  printed  the 
amount  of  a  prize  in  letters  nearly  a  foot  long,  easily 
legible  from  any  part  of  the  hall.  A  blind  boy  drew 
forth  a  number.  It  was  read  aloud  by  the  spokesman, 
and  also  by  a  member  of  the  citizens'  committee. 
Then  a  package  was  taken  out  of  the  other  wheel  by 
a  blind  girl,  and  its  figure  exhibited  to  the  audience. 
Now  and  then  when  a  number  was  announced,  some 
one  in  the  audience  would  cry  out  that  he  held  it. 
Amid  breathless  silence  the  throng  would  await  the 


318         Gambling  "Hells"  of  New  York. 


unfolding  of  the  little  package  that  fixed  the  amount 
of  the  prize.  Almost  invariably  the  spokesman  held 
up  a  placard  inscribed  §75.  The  audience  would 
laugh,  enjoying  the  joke  in  spite  of  its  monotony.  The 
lucky  fellow  probably  held  only  a  tenth  part  of  the 
winning  number,  and  was  therefore  entitled  to  the 
magnificent  sum  of  $7.50.  Realizing  that  his  chance 
was  all  up,  *  the  man '  who  drew  a  prize  would  soon 
slink  out  of  the  house  in  a  fit  of  profound  disgust,  and 
envying  those  still  in  suspense. 

"  Here  is  another  point  for  ticket-holders  to  look  into 
if  they  ever  get  a  chance — which,  considering  their 
lives  of  humble  toil,  is  not  very  likely.  The  managers 
say  that  only  three-fourths  of  the  tickets  were  sold, 
and  accordingly  they  reduced  the  prizes  to  that  extent. 
But  was  just  exactly  one-fourth  of  the  tickets  left  on 
their  hands  unpurchased  ?  If  their  statement  is  only 
an  approximation — and  can  it  possibly  be  anything 
else  ? — the  matter  is  important.  Five  per  cent,  of 
variation  from  their  statement  would  mean  $200,000. 
The  ticket  holders  had  a  right  to  know  exactly  the 
number  of  tickets  left  unsold.  To  state  it  roundly  at 
three-fourths  shows  how  loosely  the  humbug  is  con- 
ducted, and  how  powerless  the  victims  are  to  protect 
themselves  against  important  departures  from  the 
scheme,  as  advertised  up  to  the  very  morning  of  the 
drawing.  The  j oiliest  people  I  saw  at  the  hotels  of 
Louisville  were  certain  agents,  who  pocketed  $25,000 
commission  allowed  for  the  sale  of  tickets.  And  not 
one  of  them  did  I  see  at  the  drawing.  They  had  sold 
their  last  ticket  without  a  pang." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  CIRCULAR  SWINDLE. 

The  chapter  on  "  Circular  Swindlers"  in  Edward 
Crapsey's  "  Nether  Side  of  New  York,"  contains,  to- 
ward its  close,  the  following  significant  sentence : 
"  This  chapter  has  been  entitled  i  Circular  Swindlers,' 
but  it  would  have  been  better  to  put  the  title  in  the 
singular  number."  Mr.  Crapsey,  in  his  search  for  ma- 
terials, doubtless  found,  as  has  the  author  of  this  in  a 
similar  search,  the  subject  expanding  itself  to  a  field 
so  wide  as  not  to  be  easily  controlled.  It  will  be  seen 
at  a  glance  that  the  field  is  not  only  an  ample  one, 
but  one  that  requires  delicate  and  careful  cultiva- 
tion. 

It  is  a  patent  fact  in  this  marvelously  active  age,  when 
enterprises  run  pell  mell  against  each  other  in  rival 
contests  for  supremacy  and  success,  that  many  of  these 
deemed  legitimate  enough  upon  their  lace,  would  not  be 
able,  nevertheless,  to  bear  the  scrutiny  of  a  very  close  in- 
spection. A  large  number  of  these  enterprises  are  car- 
ried on  solely  by  means  of  circulars,  the  patrons  of  the 
concern  knowing  nothing  whatever  of  the  real  charac- 
ter of  the  thing  patronised.  Some  of  the  recognized 
standing  swindles  and  humbugs  of  the  day,  known  to 
be  such  by  the  communities  in  which  they  thrive,  are 
carried  on  exclusively  by  circulars  that  contain  scarce- 
ly a  word  of  truth,  falsehoods  wilfully  and  deliberately 
put  forth  for  the  purpose  of  deceiving  the  public,  in 
reference  to  those,  it  is  proper  to  say  that  public  com- 


320 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


placency  is  not  to  be  taken  as  an  evidence  of  the  good 
character  or  animus  of  these  schemes,  for  such  indeed 
they  really  are.  Business  honor,  as  well  as  business 
legitimacy,  have  accorded  to  them  in  these  days  of 
bitter  rivalry,  and,  we  will  add,  laxity  of  business 
morals,  a  latitude  so  wide  that  a  business  must  be  no- 
toriously and  palpably  a  swindle,  before  it  excites  any- 
thing beyond  individual  suspicion  or  contempt. 

The  swindles  of  the  great  showman,  Barnum,  were 
invariably  of  the  humorous  type,  so  funny  that  the  pub- 
lic shook  itself  with  peals  of  laughter  while  it  paid  its 
money  for  the  swindle,  all  thought  of  culpability  being 
swallowed  up  in  the  general  guffaw.  Even  the  Show- 
man's book  on  his  own  humbugs,  the  greatest  of  his 
exploits  in  that  direction,  and  by  far  the  most  solemn 
and  pathetic,  was  readily  gobbled  up  by  the  same 
public  that  he  had  swindled  so  often  before.  But  it 
is  not  to  this  sort  that  we  shall  specially  address  our- 
selves in  this  chapter.  We  do  propose,  however,  and 
with  an  eye  single  to  the  public  interest,  to  include 
in  the  range  we  have  marked,  not  only  some  of  the 
notorious  swindles  of  the  day,  but  others  which, 
though  passing  long  as  legitimate  concerns,  are  still 
laughed  at  by  those  who  know  them,  and  who  do  not 
for  this  reason  patronise  them,  as  wholesale  swindles. 

That  symptom  in  our  business,  and,  we  might  add, 
our  political  life,  that  leads  us  to  tolerate,  and  some- 
times actively  give  countenance  and  support  to  r;rime, 
is  by  no  means  a  healthy,  though  now  got  to  be  a 
general  one.  A  disease  like  this  rapidly  spreads  itself 
to  every  vital  portion  of  the  body  it  infects,  until  at 
last,  as  applied  to  communities,  that  individual  sensi- 
tiveness to  public  wrongs,  so  essential  to  a  high  con- 
dition of  public  morality,  dies  out  altogether,  so  that 


The  Circular  Swindle.  321 

anything  in  the  way  of  a  wrong  will  be  tolerated 
rather  than  be  troubled  with  any  effort  to  suppress  it. 
[Religious  fanaticism,  like  that  which  raged  in  Spain 
in  the  days  of  Philip  the  Second,  and  his  infamous 
father,  or  that  which  led  our  good  Puritan  ancestors 
to  burn  witches  and  persecute  the  Quakers,  has  been 
left  far  in  the  background  of  our  civilization,  but  it 
cannot  be  said  that  our  advancement*  in  this  direction 
has  been  marked  by  an  equally  healthy  advance  in 
political  or  business  ethics. 

Ignore  it  as  we  may,  the  age,  with  us  at  least  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  is  an  age  of  tricks  and  devi- 
ces. Anything  that  wins,  however  questionable,  is 
tolerated.  We  cannot  stop  to  get  behind  the  fact  of 
success,  in  our  eagerness  to  deify  and  worship  it.  We 
bow  down  to  the  Baal  of  riches  with  a  servility  known 
to  no  other  people,  though  forcing  ourselves  to  be- 
lieve that  we  are  indifferent  to  it,  and  to  those  who 
possess  it.  Hence  it  is  that  latterly,  circular,  and  hun- 
dreds of  other  swindlers,  grow  rich  among  us,  and 
settle  down  to  a  quiet  enjoyment  of  their  ill-gotten 
gains,  and  what  is  worse  than  all,  have  accorded  to 
them  in  their  retirement,  a  modicum  of  public  and 
individual  respect,  solely  because  they  have  been  sharp 
enough  and  dishonest  enough  to  make  money. 

Mr.  Crapsey  sets  out  in  the  chapter  referred  to  with 
the  statement  that  "  there  are  a  dozen  adroit  rascals 
in  New  York  who  do  a  prosperous  business  by  acting 
upon  the  principle  that  a  large  share  of  the  people 
only  need  motive,  and  opportunity  to  become  knaves." 
True,  and  he  might  have  added  that  another  .set  of 
rascals  who  amass  fortunes  yearly  by  conducting  a 
business  recognized  as  legitimate,  not  in  an  honest 
and  legitimate  way,  but  as  mountebanks  and  swind- 


322 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


lers,  can  be  numbered  by  thousands,  and  that  they  are 
not  confined  to  New  York,  but  are  scattered  all  over 
the  country. 

While  it  is  a  fact  that  this  latter  class  are  not  ranked 
with  the  "circular,"  the  "sawdust,"  the  "lottery,"  or 
with  any  other  of  what  for  a  more  appropriate  name 
may  be  called  technical  swindlers,  they  are  men  never- 
theless whose  capital  in  business  consists  chiefly  of 
falsehood  and  impudence  combined. 

In  this  class  may  be  set  down  the  wild-cat  "  Com- 
mercial Colleges"  that  a  few  years  ago  had  their 
"  chains  "  throughout  the  whole  North,  and  some  por- 
tions of  the  South,  and  which  were  carried  on,  as  some 
of  them  are  still  conducted,  by  means  of  circulars 
filled  with  falsehoods  intended  to  deceive  the  thous- 
ands of  patrons  that  send  their  sons  to  them  without 
other  recommendation  than  the  circular  itself.  Of 
course  the  class  to  which  we  refer  furnished  no  re^u- 
lar,  comprehensive  curriculum  of  studies.  A  little 
penmanship,  and  a  little  book-keeping,  with  now  and 
then  a  lecture  upon  nothing  in  particular  and  every- 
thing in  general,  formed  the  staple  of  that  very  uncer- 
tain commodity  with  them,  called  education.  Hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  students,  decoyed  by  a  profusion 
of  circular  promises  that  were  never  fulfilled  in  any 
respect,  left  their  homes,  traveling  often  at  great  ex- 
pense hundreds  and  thousands  of  miles,  to  learn  what 
any  well  taught  district  school  would  have  furnished 
them  at  their  own  doors.  So  lean  and  barren  in  re- 
sults have  these  so-called  Colleges  proved  themselves, 
so  far  as  instruction  is  concerned,  that  they  are  now 
everywhere  tabooed  as  educational  humbugs  of  the 
most  dangerous  sort.  To  dignify  a  school  with  the 
name  of  College,  that  will  furnish  a  young  man  with 


The  Circular  S  to  indie. 


323 


a  diploma  within  a  month  of  the  payment  of  his 
matriculation  fee,  as  one  of  these  to  our  knowledge 
has  dune,  is  to  libel  the  name  of  College,  and  that  for 
which  it  stands.  Of  course  the  sole  object  of  these 
"chains"  was  money,  without  even  the  slightest  edu- 
cational equivalent,  though  even  this  is  not  the  worst 
feature  of  the  case.  Armed  with  his  "  sheep-skin," 
after  a  few  weeks,  or,  at  most,  a  few  months  of  study 
in  one  of  these  Colleges,  a  young  graduate  felt  him- 
self at  liberty  to  present  himself  at  the  door  of  any 
counting-room  or  commercial  house  in  the  country, 
and  demand  a  place  at  a  large  salary,  with  the  assur- 
ance of  one  born  and  trained  to  business. 

So  great  did  this  nuisance  become  at  last,  that  mer- 
chants in  need  of  clerks  now  advertise  for  them  in 
the  following  style  of  advertisement  which  we  clip 
from  a  recent  number  of  the      Y.  Herald : 

Wanted. — A.  bright,  active  young  man,  as  assistant  book  keeper 
in  a  wholesale  store.  Graduates  of  Commercial  Colleges  need 
not  apply  in  person  or  by  letter.    Enquire,  etc.,  etc. 

We  know  one  of  these  Colleges  located  near  this 
city,  at  the  head  of  which  is  a  light-headed  mounte- 
bank, that  for  years  had  a  most  marvelous  success  by 
means  of  circulars  containing  little  but  falsehoods  of 
the  Munchausen  type.  The  character  of  many  of 
these  circulars,  if  taken  as  an  indication  of  the  busi- 
ness morality  of  the  country,  would  place  it  at  so  low 
an  ebb  as  to  be  little  better  than  a  standing  disgrace. 
Like  many  other  of  our  business  humbugs,  it  was 
born  of  that  false  spirit  of  enterprise  that  stops  at  noth- 
ing, however  dishonest  in  a  public  way,  that  will  en- 
rich the  single  individual  that  engineers  it.  The 
"  stationery  department "  in  the  school  of  which  we 


324 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


speak,  is  said  to  be  a  swindle  without  palliation  or  mit- 
igation, a  wholesale  grab  at  the  pocket  of  the  student, 
yielding  to  the  proprietor  a  larger  amount  of  profit 
than  all  the  others  put  together.  By  dint  of  hard, 
constant  work  with  the  machine  that  grinds  out  the 
lying  circulars  and  scatters  them  broadcast  over  the 
country,  this  most  successful  in  the  past  of  these  com- 
mercial artful  dodgers,  is  still  kept  on  its  legs,  but 
with  a  patronage  of  an  average  of  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pupils  a  year,  as  against  the  sixteen  hundred 
of  former  years.  The  Commercial  College  dodge  was  a 
humbug,  if  not  a  swindle,  in  its  very  inception.  It 
was  designed  to  palm  off  upon  the  merchants  of  the 
country  a  class  of  young  men  who  desired  to  reach 
at  a  bound  the  most  lucrative  commercial  and  clerical 
places  without  a  tithe  of  the  training  needed  as  an 
essential  to  success.  Many  trained  to  the  active  work 
of  the  counting  room,  found  themselves  superceded 
for  a  time  by  this  horde  of  "  graduates "  who  had 
mastered  in  a  month,  penmanship,  book-keeping,  tele- 
graphy, banking,  commercial  law,  arithmetic,  active 
business,  the  latter  extemporised  in  the  "  college," 
and  several  other  kindred  branches  of  study. 

But  the  new  recruits  were  not  a  success,  and  it 
has  been  found  that  the  road  to  business,  like  that 
to  learning,  is  not  a  royal  one,  so  that  the  "  Com- 
mercial College,"  as  it  was  and  is,  is  likely  soon  to 
become  extinct.  An  educational  institution  that  re- 
quires millions  of  circulars,  immense  show  bills,  and  a 
brass  band  traversing  the  country  in  its  behalf,  could 
not  reasonably  be  expected  to  furnish  either  the  weft 
or  the  woof  of  a  sound  business  education,  and  it 
may  be  said  with  strict  truth  of  the  class  that 
we  refer  to,  that  they  are  as  innocent  of  any  serious 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


325 


attempt  to  educate  anybody  as  was  Barnum,  when 
traveling  with  Joyce  Heth,  or  the  "  fat  woman." 

GIFT  ENTERPRISES. 

A  little  lower  in  grade  come  the  gift  enterprises  of 
the  day,  and  it  may  be  said  of  the  whole  brood  of 
them  in  general  terms  that  they  are  swindles  of  the 
circular  order.  These  gift  enterprises,  from  the  great 
"  Library  "  schemes  down  to  the  lowest,  are  all  of  a 
piece.  The  "  Magnolia "  (Iowa)  swindle  carried  on 
by  Maynard  &  Co.  was  one  of  this  sort.  These  scoun- 
drels commence  at  their  victims  and  others  in  this 
way  : 

u  At  the  grand  award  of  gifts,  Jan.  20th,  we  are  pleased  to 
inform  you  that  your  ticket,  No.  142068,  was  awarded  one  of  the 
miscellaneous  gifts,  valued  at  S200.  You  will  see  by  referring  to 
circular  sent  to  you,  that  on  all  miscellaneous  gifts  5  per  cent,  on 
the  valuation  of  each  miscellaneous  gift  is  required  before  the 
delivery  of  the  gift,  and  10  per  cent  is  to  be  deducted  from  each 
cash  gift.  Therefore  5  per  cent,  on  your  gift  amounts  to  $10, 
which  must  be  sent  to  us,  together  with  the  ticket,  within  fifteen, 
days  from  the  day  you  receive  this  notice,  or  the  gift  will  be 
forfeited. 

"  Therefore  if  you  desire  the  gift  to  be  sent,  remit  $10  at  once." 
Here  comes  an  important  caution  : 

'"In  sending  money,  inclose  the  bills  in  your  letter,  carefully 
folded,  seal  closely,  write  our  name,  town  and  state  plainly,  and 
send  the  letter  by  regular  mail  and  it  will  come  safe ;  or  if  you 
desire,  you  can  register  your  letter,  or  you  can  send  us  drafts  on 
New  York  or  Chicago ;  but  you  must  not  send  postal  money 
orders,  as  none  but  distributing  offices  have  sufficient  funds 
on  hand  to  pay,  and  it  might  be  two  months  before  we  could  get 
the  'money,  which  would  prevent  our  filling  your  order  that 
length  of  time ;  so  be  particular  to  send  bills  in  letter  or  drafts  on 
New  York  or  Chicago. 

4k  In  case  your  ticket  has  been  mislaid  or  lost,  the  facts  must  be 


326 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


stated  and  the  gift  will  be  sent  and  the  number  cancelled  of 
record  on  receipt  of  money." 

Magnolia,  Iowa,  got  too  hot  for  these  scoundrels, 
and  the  next  role  they  (Maynard  &  Co.)  appeared  in, 
was  that  of  "  reform."  We  have  heard  a  good  deal 
about  reform  in  these  later  days  among  the  politicians, 
but  the  lottery  and  circular  swindlers  have  rarely  made 
use  of  it,  until  Maynard  &  Co.  resolved  to  leave  Mag- 
nolia, which  they  did  after  publishing  the  following  : 

"  Since  printing  our  notifications  we  have  discontinued  our 
office  at  Magnolia,  owing  to  the  inconvenience  of  its  mail  facilities, 
and  hereafter  in  no  case  must  any  money  or  communication  be 
sent  to  us  at  that  office. 

"Owing  to  the  strong  desire  on  the  part  of  our  people  and 
the  Legislature  to  discontinue  this  line  of  business,  we  have 
decided  to  lend  our  aid  in  the  cause  of  moral  reform,  and  conse- 
quently will  conduct  no  more  distributions ;  and  in  closing  up  our 
business,  we  simply  follow  our  line  of  duty  to  our  patrons  on 
promises  made  in  the  past,  and  with  many  kind  wishes,  we  are, 
"  Very  truly  yours,  Mayxard  &  Co." 

How  much  money  was  sunk  by  deluded  ticket- 
holders  in  this  business,  no  one  will  ever  know,  save 
those  who  received  it,  but  the  credulity  of  poor  human 
nature  is  such,  that  the  dupes  in  this  case  probably 
relished  the  swindle,  and  went  straight,  with  purse 
wide  open,  to  find  another  that  promised  equally  fair. 
They  had  not  long  or  far  to  look,  for  the  $5  sewing 
machine  humbug  came  along  about  that  time,  and  the 
fools  all  nibbled  at.  the  bait  with  a  gusto  that  was 
positively  amusing.  The  late  concern,  corner  of  Cort- 
Landt  street,  New  York,  is  the  last  that  we  have  heard 
of  in  this  line.  The  machine  sent  out  by  them  was  ab- 
solutely worthless,  but  the  buyers  were  legion. 

The  counterfeit  money  swindle  is  an  old  one,  and 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


327 


one  of  the  most  successful.  "  The  love  of  money  is  the 
root  of  all  evil,"  says  the  proverb,  and  the  proverb  has 
a  double  verification  in  the  fact,  that  no  swindle  has 
been  more  successful  than  this.  It  seems  incredible 
that  any  considerable  number  of  persons,  many  of 
whom  claim  to  be,  and  are,  so  far  as  general  repute 
goes,  of  good  standing  in  the  communities  in  which 
they  live,  could  have  nibbled  at  this  bait,  and  the  busi- 
ness world  would  stand  aghast  if  the  number  and  char- 
acter of  these  were  accurately  known.  The  most  bare- 
faced swindle  of  this  sort,  and  the  one  that  lived 
longest,  was  the  following  : 

New  York,  March,  1871. 
Dear  Sir  :  We  wish  to  secure  the  services  of  a  smart  and 
intelligent  Agent  in  your  locality  for  a  business  that  cannot  fail  to 
yield  (without  much  effort)  at  least  a  profit  of  Si 0,000  per  year, 
and  if  shrewdly  managed,  will  return  a  much  larger  amount,  and 
this  too  without  neglecting  your  regular  business.  We  have  been 
constantly  engaged  for  several  months  past  in  preparing  Plates  of 
the  $1,  $2,  $5  and  $10  U.  S.  Greenbacks.  Having  completed  them, 
we  are  now  prepared  to  furnish  the  bills,  of  the  different  denomi- 
nations, in  any  quantity  desired,  above  3500.  These  are  without 
any  exception  the  finest  executed  bills  that  were  ever  issued  in 
this  country,  and  cannot  be  detected,  even  by  the  oldest  experts ; 
they  are  correctly  numbered,  the  engravings  cannot  be  exce.led ; 
in  fact,  no  expense  or  labor  has  been  spared  to  bring  the  best 
talent  the  country  could  produce,  in  the  art  of  the  engraving  and 
printing,  to  make  our  issues  exactly  like  the  originals,  thus  render- 
ing it  just  as  safe  for  you  to  pass  them  as  if  they  came  from  the 
44  Treasury  Department."  We  have  them  put  up  in  packages  of 
$500,  SI, 000,  $5,000  and  $10,000.  On  account  of  the  superior 
excellence  of  these  bills,  as  weJl  as  the  large  expense  of  bringing 
them  to  perfection,  we  shall  charge  you  25  cts.  on  the  dollar  tor 
them  ;  but  in  order  fairly  to  start  you,  and  to  show  that  we 
"mean  business^  we  will  send  you  a  package,  charging  you  only 
5  cts.  on  the  dollar,  provided  you  will  pay  the  balance  (20  cts.  on 
the  dollar)  within  fifteen  days  of  receiving  the  package.  You 
will  be  required  to  meet  your  bills  promptly.    The  first  cost  to 


32S 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


you  will  be  $25  for  $500  ;  $50  for  $1,000;  $100  for  $2,000 ;  $250 
for  $5,000,  and  $500  for  $10,000.  When  you  order,  be  very  par- 
ticular to  send  your  letter  by  Express,  for  positively  we  will  not 
lill  an  order  that  reaches  us  through  the  Post  Office ;  we  have 
lost  large  amounts  that  have  been  forwarded  this  way,  and  we  will 
run  no  risk  hereafter. 

The  Express  is  sure,  safe  and  expeditious,  and  the  money  for- 
warded through  it  is  at  our  risk.  Seal  your  order,  as  you  do  any 
letter,  and  mark  outside,  in  large  figures,  Value  $500,  and  it  will 
then  be  received  and  forwarded  by  the  Express  Co.  It  is  always 
best  to  have  a  "  Cash  remittance'1''  accompanying  your  order, 
thus  showing  good  faith  on  your  part.  Be  very  careful  to  dis- 
tinctly state  the  amount  and  denominations  you  wish,  also  your 
name  and  Post  Office,  with  the  County  and  State  plainly  and 
clearly  icritten.  You  are  one  of  three  persons  in  your  State  that 
we  addressed,  and  with  these  bills  so  artistically  executed,  and  the 
facilities  we  will  give  you,  you  are  started  at  once  upon  the  high- 
way to  fortune  and  affluence.  You  can  rest  assured  of  one  thing, 
that  you  can  never  be  wanting  for  funds  while  you  are  connected 
with  us,  and  remain  true.  On  receipt  of  your  order,  we  im- 
mediately write  through  the  Post  Office  to  your  address,  stating 
the  day  we  ship  your  package,  and  you  will  always  call  there 
before  going  to  the  Express.  The  package  is  made  up  in  such  a 
way  that  no  one  would  ever  suspect  its  nature.  A  personal 
interview  is  always  desirable,  and  would  better  suit  us,  and  might 
be  to  our  mutual  advantage,  as  you  could  then  examine  the 
money  for  yourself,  and  judge  its  quality,  and  the  amount  you 
would  require.  Fraternally  yours, 

Jas.  P.  Baker  &  Co. 

No.  150  Broadway,  K  Y.  City. 

P.  S.  We  received  so  many  letters,  asking  for  samples,  that  we 
have  concluded  we  will,  on  receipt  of  $5.00  by  Express,  send 
sample  of  our  issue.  We  have  also  fractional  currency  in  10c, 
15c,  25c,  and  50c.  denominations,  fully  up  to  our  standard  of 
Bills.    Prompt  attention  and  fair  dealing  guaranteed. 

Under  different  names,  James  P.  Baker  &  Co.  did 
a  most  successful  business  for  some  time,  but  finally 
came  to  grief,  though  not  until  a  large  fortune  had 


» 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


329 


been  realized.  Others  under  the  name  and  style  of 
Win.  Cooper  &  Co.,  S.  Y.  Adando  &  Co.,  Win.  J.  Fer- 
guson, 19i  Broadway,  New  York,  Win,  B.  Logan, 
Dutch  street,  and  many  others,  have  run  this  swindle 
to  success. 

Cooper  &  Co.  dashed  out  with  the  following,  that 
proved  perfectly  irresistible  to  their  customers  : 

"  When  Congress  authorized  the  present  issue  of  greenbacks, 
the  Treasury  Department  executed  plates  of  enormous  cost  and 
wonderful  workmanship,  from  which  the  whole  amount  of  cur- 
rency authorized  by  Congress,  was  to  be  printed,  and  it  was 
ordered  at  the  time,  that  as  soon  as  the  whole  amount  had  been 
printed,  the  plates,  some  100  in  numbsr,  should  be  taken  from  the 
Treasury  Printing  Department,  conveyed  to  the  Navy-yard  and 
melted.  Now  it  so  happened  that  the  plates  from  which  the 
1,  2,  and  5  dollar  bills  had  been  printed  were  not  destroyed. 
How  it  was  brought  about,  we,  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  do  not 
state.  It  is  enough  to  know  that  the  plates  are  still  preserved 
uninjured,  and  we  trust  their  whereabouts  will  never  be  known 
except  to  us." 

McXally  &  Co.,  229  Broadway,  had  the  honor,  it 
is  said,  of  being  the  last  of  this  crowd  of  rascals,  and  a 
precious  bit  of  impudence  they  were.  Improving  on 
all  the  others,  they  struck  out  with  a  boldness  and  an 
assumption  of  honesty  and  fair  dealing  that  was  almost 
pathetic. 

Express  all  your  money  )  MoNally  &  Co., 

to  this  address.       \  229  Broadway. 

Dear  Sir  :  You  no  doubt  have  some  reluctance  in  engaging 
with  us ;  perhaps  you  already  have  received  from  different 
parties  in  New  York,  who  represent  things  highly  colored,  with  a 
great  mixture  of  flattery,  in  respect  to  the  goods  they  desire  to 
dispose  of,  and  their  extreme  cheapness,  they  unaccountably  got 
hold  of  the  way  we  do  business,  and  as  near  as  possible  they  try 
to  imitate  us;  they  are  flooding  the  country  with  circulars,  receiv- 
ing money  and  sending  nothing  in  return ;  you  can  see  for  your- 


330 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


selves.  How  can  any  one  sell  $1,000  worth  of  the  goods  for  $10  ? 
They  can't  do  it,  and  more,  they  don't  do  it.  We  have  letters 
every  day  from  parties  they  have  gulled  and  caught.  Now  of  two 
evils  you  can  choose  the  least ;  we  have  goods  that  no  one  ever 
has,  so  far,  found  fault  with.  Remember,  we  do  this  business 
with  two  names.  One  to  write  to  and  one  to  express  all  money 
to  ;  make  no  mistake  in  addressing  us  if  you  desire  to  do  business 
and  yourself  justice.    Address  by  "mail  "  your  letter  to 

P.  Matboen  &  Co.,  Box  216  Jersey  City,  N.  J. 

The  upshot  of  all  this  dirty,  villainous  business  has 
been,  that  the  dupes  finally  got  in  return  for.  the  good 
money  sent,  a  small  box  filled  with  saw-dust.  Form- 
erly, when  these  scoundrels  did  their  business  through 
the  mails,  it  became  necessary  for  them  to  show  that 
no  counterfeit  money  was  actually  sent,  which  was  the 
case,  as  the  victims  got  only  the  small  photographic 
cards  of  the  greenbacks,  at  that  time  so  largely  known, 
and  which  cost  less  than  a  penny  each,  so  that  the 
profits  on  the  photographic  u  queer "  were  immense. 
The  government  soon  broke  this  up,  and  then  the 
scoundrels  got  down  to  saw-dust,  forwarded  C.  O.  D. 
by  express,  and  so  packed  as  to  elude  •  detection  in 
almost  every  case.  The  swindle  still  lives  and 
flourishes,  all  because  it  is  impossible  to  catch  these 
knowing  knaves  at  some  palpable  violation  of  the  law. 
It  is  safe  to  say,  and  the  fact  itself  goes  far  in  illus- 
tration of  the  extent  of  the  business,  that  during  the 
past  four  years  thousands  of  letters  have  been  received 
at  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  Police  in  this  city  from 
persons  in  receipt  of  these  circulars,  but  who  are  not 
of  the  sort  they  are  intended  to  reach.  As  to  the 
victims  themselves,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  they  trans- 
fer annually  from  their  own  to  the  pockets  of  these 
rascals  about  $300,000,  the  penalty  paid  for  folly  and 
dishonesty. 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


331 


On  a  par  with  the  Commercial  College  humbug,  the 
"  National  Surgical  Institute,"  and  the  "  New  York 
Medical  University"  are  samples.  Some  parties  in 
the  West  took  the  medicines  of  the  latter  until  they 
were  on  "  their  last  legs  "  in  consequence,  before  they 
discovered  they  had  been  taking  the  most  injurious 
nostrums.  One  of  the  victims  of  this  medical  swindle, 
more  plucky  than  the  rest,  and  with  still  enough  of 
life  in  him  to  make  a  strong  fight,  prepared  himself  for 
an  attack  on  the  "  University"  itself.  His  idea  was  to 
get  down  to  the  source  of  his  unnumbered  woes  at 
once,  by  going  to  New  York,  which  he  did.  After 
tramping  over  the  city  in  search  of  the  concern,  it 
turned  out  to  be  altogether  mythical,  and  he  went  back 
to  the  West  disgusted.  He  had  been  doubly  duped. 
The  jaunt,  however,  did  him  good,  and  perhaps  saved 
his  life,  a  compensation  that  did  not  come  to  the  other 
victims,  who  kept  right  on  with  the  "  University"  me- 
dicines, until  the  arrival  of  the  undertaker.  Of  any  of 
the  ten  thousand  other  medical  humbugs  we  have  not 
patience  to  speak.  A  drowning  man  will  catch  at  a 
straw,  and  a  sick  man,  or  one  who  believes  himself  ill, 
will  swallow  anything  in  the  way  of  a  remedy,  no 
matter  by  whom  administered.  It  is  "  gape,  sinner, 
and  swallow,"  and  down  goes  the  vile  stuff,  while 
faith  in  its  efficacy  "  mounts  upward  to  the  skies," 
whither  the  taker  soon  wings  his  flight. 

The  Watch  Swindles  have  been  numerous  and 
effective.  One  of  the  latest  heard  of  is  that  of  Howard 
&  Co.,  Chicago.    This  is  the  manner  of  it : 

"  Dear  Sir  :  The  watch  received  from  you  January  15th  is  now- 
ready  for  delivery.  You  were  correct  when  you  stated  it  could 
not  be  repaired  outside  of  our  house.  We  have  had  great  diffi- 
culty with  it,  but  it  is  now  in  thorough  order,  and  we  will  war- 


332 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


rant  it  to  keep  correct  time  for  five  years.  You  wrote  that  the 
■watch  was  found,  and  desire  to  know  its  worth.  It  is  a  very 
valuable  time-piece,  and  must  have  cost  at  least  $500  in  gold.  It 
is  now  worth  $400,  in  gold,  and,  for  any  one  desiring  a  reliable 
time-keeper,  is  really  cheap  at  first  cost.  Please  remit  amount  oi 
bill  by  express,  and  the  watch  will  be  immediately  forwarded. 

"  Respectfully,  Howaed  &  Co." 

What  boy  with  $20.25  stowed  away  in  his  little 
bank,  could  be  supposed  to  resist  the  temptation  to 
possess  himself  of  that  $400  chronometer  ?  Of  course 
the  dodge  takes  in  many  cases,  and  the  money  is  sent, 
but  the  watch  never  makes  its  appearance,  and  the 
silly  victim  pockets  his  loss,  a  little  wiser,  but  no  better 
man  than  he  was  before.  Philadelphia  furnished  a 
Howard  &  Co.,  working  for  some  time  the  $4  Geneva 
watch  swindle,  which  proved  a  worthy  scion  of  its  sup- 
posed Chicago  progenitor.  Each  was  a  libel  upon  the 
old  and  reputable  house  of  Howard  &  Co.,  New 
York  city.  After  Mr.  Crapsey's  paper  on  "  Circular 
Swindlers"  appeared  in  the  "Galaxy,"  these  watch 
swindlers,  many  of  them,  changed  the  names  appended 
to  their  former  circulars,  leaving  the  latter,  however, 
the  same  as  before.    Here  is  one  of  them  : 


THE 

TISSOT  GOLD  HUNTER  WATCH, 
S.  L.  TISSOT,  Mcuiufacturer, 

LOCLE.  SWITZERLAND. 

NORMAN,   ADDERSON  &  CO., 
Sole  Agents  for  the  United  States, 
NO.  7  PINE  STREET,  NEW  YORK. 

Wholesale  or  Trade  Price,  $240  per  doz. 


OFFICE  OF 
NORMAN,  ADDERSON  &  Co., 

Importers  and  Manufacturers  of 

WATCHES,  FINE  GOLD  JEW- 
ELRY, &c, 

No.  7  Pine  Street,  New  York, 

December  i$th,  1871. 


Deak  Sir  :  As  it  is  now  almost  one  year  since  we  have  heard 
from  you,  and  as  wo  have  written  twice  in  the  meantime,  we 
have  concluded  to  address  you  on  the  subject  once  more.  And 
should  we  not  hear  from  you  within  twenty  days,  we  will  con- 


The  Circular  Swindle, 


333 


sider  the  watch  forfeited,  and  will  dispose  of  it  to  our  best  ad- 
vantage for  ourselves.  We  would  not  hurry  you  in  this  matter  ag 
the  watch  is  ample  security  for  the  amount  due.  We  must  get 
our  accounts  all  straight  so  as  to  settle  up  our  books  on  the  first 
of  the  new  year.  If  you  wish  now  to  settle  the  matter,  you  can  send 
the  money  by  mail  or  express  and  we  will  forward  the  watch. 
Please  return  bill  with  the. money.  Or,  if  it  will  suit  your  con- 
venience better,  we  will  send  it  by  express  C.  O.  D.  with  bill, 
which  you  can  pay  on  delivery. 

Yours  respectfully,  Norman,  Adderson  &  Co. 

P.  S. — We  could  have  sold  the  watch  last  June  for  $90,  at 
which  time  we  notified  you  by  mail  and  received  no  answer. 

The  bill  referred  to  in  this  case  was  dated  February 
27,  1871,  and  was  made  up  of  $3  for  repairing  a  gold 
watch,  $10  for  loan  on  watch,  and  seventy  cents  in- 
terest, making  a  total  of  $13.70.  The  fraud  seems 
small,  but  it  was  this  very  fact  that  made  it  effective. 
Sent  out  by  the  hundreds  all  over  the  country,  these 
letters  produced  in  the  aggregate  a  very  respectable 
amount  for  the  knaves  who  mailed  them.  Many  of 
them  of  course  were  unproductive,  as  the  recipients 
were  not  caught  by  the  shallow  bait,  but  the  majority 
are  hooked.  They  know  of  course  that  they  never  left 
a  watch  to  be  repaired,  and  that  they  never  got  a  loan 
of  $10  upon  it,  but  they  suppose  that  a  mistake  has 
been  made  in  addressing  the  letter,  and  they  cannot 
resist  the  temptation  to  steal  by  indirection  a  watch 
which  could  have  been  sold  "last  June  for  $90." 
Many  of  them  therefore  hasten  to  remit  the  required 
$13.70,  and  find  that  they  have  themselves  been  sold 
at  a  singularly  low  rate.  If  they  send  the  money  by 
mail  or  express,  it  is  the  last  act  in  their  transactions 
with  Norman,  Adderson  &  Co.  But  if  they  choose 
the  C.  O.  D.  alternative,  they  promptly  receive  the 
package  after  having  paid  the  bill,  and  on  opening  it 


33± 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


discover  to  their  intense  disgust  that  it  is  only  stuffed 
with  sawdust. 

Many  other  similar  schemes,  more  complex  in  their 
character,  and  requiring  an  extra  amount  of  knavish- 
ness  to  work  them  successfully,  could  be  given,  but  it 
is  unnecessary.  The  fools  who  permit  themselves  to 
be  swindled  by  this  dodge,  would  keep  right  on, 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead  to  tell  them  of  their 
folly. 

Now  and  then  a  member  of  the  newspaper  frater- 
nity takes  it  into  his  head  to  turn  swindler,  and  as 
journalism  absorbs  a  large  share  of  the  talent  of  the 
country,  sharp  work  may  always  be  expected  in  such 
a  venture,  though  for  the  honor  of  the  cloth  we  are 
glad  to  be  able  to  say  that  journalism  is  rarely  dragged 
down  into  so  dirty  a  pool.  The  latest  case  is  that  of 
the  precocious  Hyatt,  of  Poughkeepsie,  Y.,  who 
published  for  a  time  the  "  Young  Cadet"  at  that 
place.  He  succumbed  at  last,  and  left  the  city  for  the 
city's  good,  leaving  behind  him,  it  was  said,  sundry 
promises  to  pay  that  still  remain  in  a  state  of  blissful 
unfulfillment.  A  correspondent  of  the  Star  Sjmngled 
Hanner  shows  this  beardless  stripling  up  as  follows  : 

"  About  the  first  of  last  June  I  received  a  copy  of  the  Young 
Cadet,  from  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y,  The  publisher  seemed  very- 
anxious  to  have  me  raise  him  a  club,  for  he  kept  continually  send- 
ing me  specimen  copies.  I  finally  concluded  to  take  the  agency, 
and  so  sent  him  50  cents  for  two  miniature  chromos,  posters,  etc. 
The  price  of  the  Cadet,  with  the  two  daubs,  was  a  dollar  a  year. 

I  managed  to  get  four  subscribers  for  Hyatt,  and  sent  him  

dollars,  telling  him  that  for  my  premium  I  had  picked  out  a  gold- 
plated  holder,  with  gold  pen  and  pencil  combined.  I  waited  for 
weeks  after  sending  the  money  and  didn't  hear  anything  from 
him.  I  then  began  to  think  that  I  had  been  swindled.  I  wrote 
him  a  letter,  telling  him  what  I  thought  of  such  a  pup,  and  if  he 


The  Circular  Swindle, 


335 


didn't  send  the  magazines  I'd  show  him  up  to  the  public.  The 
effect  was,  in  about  four  days  he  sent  along  five  magazines— one 
as  my  premium — but  instead  of  the  Young  Cadet  they  were  the 
Youth's  Progress,  a  magazine  about  the  same  size.  No  chromos 
came,  and  the  subscribers  were  madder  than  blazes.  I  should 
not  have  cared  for  the  daubs  if  he  had  only  sent  the  books  ;  but 
no,  this  representative  of  E.  C.  Allen  thought  it  money,  as  well  as 
one  cent  postage  stamps  in  his  pocket,  not  to.  He  never  sent  the 
magazines  at  any  regular  time,  but  would  hang  off  and  send 
them  one  by  one.  Of  the  six  letters  that  I  wrote  to  him 
I  never  got  one  answer  (not  even  by  postal  card),  and  those 
that  had  stamps  enclosed  he  pocketed.  After  sending  three  ma- 
gazines apiece,  this  honest  youth  shut  off  for  good.  I  don't  think 
he  will  be  able  to  fleece  any  more  in  this  place,  as  his  character 
of  late  has  been  pretty  roughly  handled. 

I  remain  yours,  etc. 

C.  F.  B urbane,  Taunton,  Mass. 

We  have  seen  parties  from  Poughkeepsie  who  knew 
Hyatt,  while  a  resident  of  that  city,  and  who,  to  his 
credit  be  it  said,  did  not  rank  him  among  the  accom- 
plished swindlers,  but  one  who  had  entered  business 
as  a  youth  with  honest  intentions,  but  who,  after  sev- 
eral hard  hits  from  the  genius  of  ill-luck,  took  a  new 
tack,  and,  as  the  good  old  ladies  say,  "  turned  out  very 
bad."  If  he  is  the  swindler  the  Banner  represents 
him  to  be,  he  has  made  an  early  commencement 
in  crime  that  convicts  him  of  an  original  talent 
for  the  business,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  his  career  will 
meet  with  some  check  that  will  send  him  back  to  a 
straight  business  life.  If  he  is  bound  to  persist  in  his 
new  held,  he  will  find  before  he  gets  through,  that  the 
way  of  a  newspaper  or  magazine  swindler  is  a  hard 
one  to  travel. 


336 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


INDUSTRIAL  EXHIBITION  COMPANY  OF  NEW  YORK. 

On  the  first  of  April,  1870,  a  company  bearing  the 
above  title  was  chartered  by  the  legislature  of  this 
state.  Its  purpose,  as  set  forth  in  its  prospectus  issued 
shortly  afterwards,  was  as  follows  : 

"  The  object  of  the  Industrial  Exhibition  Company  is  to  erect  a 
building  for  a  "  Perpetual  WorkVs  Fair'''1 — a  permanent  home 
where  every  manufacturer  can  exhibit  and  sell  his  wares  ;  where 
every  patentee  can  show  his  patent  to  those  who  will  be  most 
likely  to  understand  and  appreciate  it;  a  centre  of  industry 
which  will  prove  a  benefit,  not  to  New  York  alone,  but  to  the 
nation  and  the  entire  world. 

The  enterprise  commends  itself  to  every  thoughtful  mind.  Its 
accomplishment  should  be  a  matter  of  pride  to  every  American 
citizen.  It  appeals  to  every  commercial  interest ;  to  the  inventive 
mind ;  to  the  lover  of  the  beautiful  in  art  and  nature ;  to  the 
selGsh  and  to  the  unselfish  characteristics  of  humanity ;  to  those 
who  desire  to  see  trade  increasing  and  business  prosperous ;  for 
such  an  undertaking  cannot  fail  to  materially  aid  and  enlarge 
commerce  of  every  kind. 

The  gentlemen  who  take  an  active  interest  in  the  Industrial 
Exhibition  Company  need  only  to  be  named  in  order  to  convince 
the  public  that  their  interest  proceeds,  not  from  private  motives, 
but  rather  from  a  sincere  desire  to  assist  in  a  great  undertaking. 
From  the  many  Directors,  all  well  known  to  the  people  of  the 
United  States,  we  select  a  few  names.  (See  List  of  Directors  on 
the  last  page  of  this  circular.) 

The  Financial  Agents  of  the  Company,  to  whom  is  entrusted 
the  negotiation  of  the  entire  loan,  are  Messrs.  Morgenthau,  Bruno 
&  Co.,  German  Bankers,  who  have  had  great  experience  in  plac- 
ing similar  loans  for  European  governments. 

Parties  desiring  more  minute  information  upon  any  subject 
connected  herewith,  are  requested  to  address 

MORGENTHATT,  BRUNO  &  Co., 

Post  Office  Drawer  29.  No.  23  Park  Row,  N.  Y. 


The  names  referred  to  above  were  the  following,  all 
of  them  of  the  best  business  repute,  and  several  of 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


337 


them  gentlemen  of  the  very  highest  character  and 
integrity : 

Board  of  Directors. — Hon.  F.  A.  Alberger,  President ;  Gen. 
A.  S.  Diven,  Vice-President;  Win.  0.  Moore,  Treasurer;  Reuben 
J.  Todd,  Secretary  ;  Wra.  B.  Ogden,  Chicago,  and  High  Bridge, 
N.  Y. ;  Paul  K  Spofford,  29  Broadway,  N".  Y. ;  E.  A.  Boyd,  79 
Murray  street,  X.  Y. ;  H.  H.  Durkee,  78  Pearl  street,  X.  Y. ;  Hon. 
Richard  Kelly,  President  Fifth  National  Bank;  James  M.  Selover, 
17  Broad  street,  X.  Y. ;  Thomas  J.  Crombie,  1314  4th  Avenue, 
and  1528  3d  Avenue,  1ST.  Y. ;  Archibald  M.  Bliss,  Brooklyn,  Long 
Island ;  J.  M.  Bnndy,  Editor,  34  Park  Row,  N.  Y.  ;  S.  Mehrbach, 
President  Second  Avenue  R.  R.,  N.  Y.  ;  Hon.  Joseph  M.  Boyd, 
408  East  114th  street,  X.  Y. ;  T.  L.  Tomlinson,  71  Broadway, 
1ST.  Y. ;  J.  W.  Little,  322  Broadway,  N.  Y.  ;  Dr.  L.  G.  Bartlett, 
51  East  23th  street,  K.  Y. ;  Gen.  J.  Cors3,  Chicago  111. ;  W. 
L.  Grant,  Covington,  Ky. ;  Jewett  M.  Richmond,  Buffalo,  X.  Y., 
and  others. 

To  build  this  "  Palace  of  Industry,"  it  was  proposed 
to  throw  upon  the  market  a  loan  similar  to  those  that 
have  been  issued  by  certain  cities  abroad,  for  years 
past,  many  of  which  were  created  in  good  faith  and 
redeemed  as  promised,  while  a  large  portion  are  still 
afloat,  innocent  of  any  living  or  prospective  redeemer. 

In  April,  1874,  an  amendment  to  the  charter  was 
passed,  enabling  the  company  to  issue  "  premium 
bonds "  to  the  amount  of  $20,000,000.  Meantime  it 
was  rumored  that  lands  had  been  purchased  on  the 
"Harlem  Flats,"  at  a  cost  of  $1,500,000,  one-sixth  of 
which,  "it  is  said,"  has  been  paid  in.  The  newspapers 
of  the  city,  as  is  their  habit  in  enterprises  of  this  sort, 
fought  shy  of  the  concern,  although  headed  so  respect- 
ably. They  knew  that  great  swindles  sometimes  have 
in  their  inception  the  influence  of  honest  and  wealthy 
men,  who  wash  their  hands  of  the  job  as  soon  as  they 
ascertain  its  character,  which  seems  to  have  been  the 


33S  The  Circular  Swindle. 

case  with  this.  Still,  a  few  respectable  papers  like 
the  World,  the  Commercial  Advertiser,  the  Brooklyn 
Argus,  and  some  others,  lent  it  for  a  while  their  coun- 
tenance and  support.  The  World,  in  its  issue  of  the 
29th  of  June  last,  contained  an  extended  notice  of  it, 
in  which  the  following  paragraphs  appeared: 

The  system  of  premium  bonds,  which  has  all  the  seductive- 
ness of  a  lottery,  is  new  in  this  country,  but  it  has  been  used  in 
Europe  to  float  government  loans  to  the  extent  of  $600,000,000, 
about  a  fourth  of  the  debt  of  the  United  States,  and  in  loans 
raised  by  cities,  railroads  and  private  enterprises  to  an  equal  ex- 
tent. Under  this  method  the  bonds  are  in  the  first  place  at  so 
low  a  figure,  sometimes  less  than  $5,  that  their  distribution  among 
a  large  number  of  persons  is  gained,  a  result  which  unlocks  a 
large  store  of  the  floating  capital  and  currency  in  the  hands  of  the 
people.  The  whole  number  of  shares  is  divided  into  series,  and 
each  year  a  certain  number  of  these  series  are  redeemed,  the 
holders  receiving  their  principal  entire,  plus  and  interest  on  the 
whole  lo .in  during  that  year.  If  this  interest  were  simply  dis- 
tributed evenly  to  the  whole  number  of  shares  redeemed,  the 
result  to  all  would  amount  simply  to  receiving  the  interest  for 
the  whole  number  of  shares  in  a  lump.  To  avoid  this  and  add 
not  so  much  an  element  of  luck  as  a  possibility  of  the  same  suc- 
cess hoped  for  in  any  speculation,  a  part  of  the  shares  receive 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  lumped  interest,  while  the  rest  receive 
the  principal  with  a  much  smaller  addition.  It  should  be  said 
that  the  interest  which  is  lost  by  those  who  get  their  money  back 
in  the  closing  year  is  equalized  by  making  the  prizes  increase  in 
value.  The  proposed  loan  of  the  Industrial  Exhibition  Company 
is  for  Twenty  Millions,  and  with  the  bonds  at  $20  apiece,  there 
are  1,000,000  bonds.  These  are  divided  into  10,000  series  of  100 
bonds  each.  In  the  fifty  years  which  the  bouds  have  to  run, 
from  1874-  to  1923,  a  certain  number  of  series  are  allotted  to  each 
year,  beginning  with  50  for  1874,  100  for  nine  years  after,  then 
150  for  ten  years,  then  200  for  twenty  years ;  300  for  five  years, 
400  for  four  years,  and  450,  all  that  are  left,  on  the  fiftieth  year ; 
the  number  of  bonds  redeemed  increasing  as  the  funds  aud  re- 
sources of  the  company  increase  year  by  year.    The  distribution 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


339 


of  interest  is  effected  in  this  way  :  Each  year  there  are  four  draw- 
ings in  which,  where  100  series  are  redeemed,  ten  series  are 
drawn  in  January,  forty  in  April,  ten  in  July,  and -forty  in  Oc- 
tober. In  January  of  1875,  for  instance,  ten  series  are  drawn  ; 
the  entire  amount  of  interest  ready  to  be  distributed  is  $150,000  ; 
it  is  divided  into  one  share  of  8100,000,  which  will  fall  to  a  single 
bond,  and  the  remainder  as  follows :  One  bond  for  $10,000.  one 
for  $5,000,  one  for  $3,000,  one  for  81,000.  ten  bonds  for  $500.  ten 
for  8200,  twenty-seven  for  $100,  forty  eight  for  850,  and  $900 
for  $21. 

"  Of  the  1,000  bonds  which  take  part  in  this  distribution  of 
profits,  900  receive  the  principal  and  a  small  interest — about  5  per 
cent. ;  the  rest  receive  larger  profits,  ranging  up  to  a  fortune,  for 
an  investment  of  820.  The  interest  distributed  in  this  manner 
increases  in  each  decade,  and  in  the  last  drawing  in  October  the 
amount  distributed  to  the  last  batch  of  10,000  bonds  which  then 
remain  is  $530,000,  the  great  majority  receiving  $40  atpiece,  or 
double  the  usual  investment.  In  fifty  years,  in  this  way,  the 
company  pays  out  848,000,000  for  its  original  loan  of  820,000,000. 
This  seems  an  enormous  premium,  but  the  interest  on  the  original 
sum  at  5  per  cent,  would  be  $50,000,000  at  simple  interest.  In 
most  business  speculations  the  capital  is  absolutely  risked,  and 
every  penny  may  be  swallowed  up  without  profit.  Here,  it  is 
claimed  by  the  company,  every  dollar  is  secured,  and  a  small  in- 
terest being  retained,  the  remainder  is  exchanged  for  the  possibi- 
lity of  a  successful  speculation.  Not  only  is  the  bond  made  ulti- 
mately as  good  as  its  face  and  better,  but  the  company  say  they 
are  ready  at  any  time  to  take  the  bonds  in  payment  for  rent  and 
the  rest  of  the  income  of  the  exhibition  building.  It  has  beea 
found  that  a  loan  of  this  character  always  appreciates.1' 

Surely  no  scheme  was  ever  set  forth  in  more  attrac- 
tive, or  in  more  "  superb  English  "  than  this,  but  ful- 
some reasons  not  yet  fully  explained,  the  c<  palace  " 
has  not  been  built  and,  it  is  whispered,  never  will  he 
by  the  present  company.  It  is  whispered,  too,  with 
how  much  of  truth  we  cannot  state,  that  the  gentle- 
men whose  names  were  a  "guarantee  "  as  indeed  they 
would  have  been,  had  the  enterprise  prospered,  found 


340 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


it  necessary  to  repudiate  the  whole  concern.  An  ef- 
fort on  the  part  of  Mr.  Alberger,  and  other  members 
of  the  last  Legislature  to  get  an  appropriation,  failed 
utterly,  and  in  the  debate  that  took  place  on  the  bill 
in  the  Assembly,  the  whole  concern  was  branded  as  a 
swindle. 

AVe  have  mentioned  this  industrial  effort  here,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  ranking  it  among  the  out  and-out 
swindles,  but  to  show  the  tendency  of  schemes  of  this 
sort  to  fall  into  the  manipulation  of  dishonest  hands, 
while  being  figure-headed,  to  make  a  coinage,  by  res- 
pectable  and  influential  names.  We  make  no  charges 
of  corruption  beyond  these  that  were  freely  talked  of 
at  the  time  the  appropriation  was  asked  for.  Since 
this  company  was  chartered  the  people  have  had  some 
bitter  experience  in  the  way  of  bonding  schemes,  many 
of  which  have  not  only  come  to  great  grief  themselves, 
but  carried  with  them  thousands  of  poor,  deluded, 
bond-holders  who  have  been  thus  mercilessly  despoiled 
of  their  last  dollar. 

Hie  moral  of  all  this  business  could  be  found  in  the. 
answer  to  the  query,  as  to  what  chance  such  a  scheme 
as  that  presented  by  this  "  Industrial  Exhibition " 
would  have  to  get  even  a  charter  in  the  light  of  the 
past  six  months  of  our  experience  as  a  people.  Four 
years  ago  we  all  screamed  our  loudest  huzzas  to  any 
enterprise  that  could  be  galvanised  into  a  precarious 
existence  by  an  ad  libitum  issue  of  bonded  promises  to 
pay.  It  is  the  people's  ox  that  has  been  "  gored  "  this 
time,  and  it  is  but  just  to  them  to  say  that  they  seem 
likely  to  profit  by  the  bitter  experience  by  seeking 
better  investments  in  future  than  that  afforded  by 
"  wild-cat "  bonds  of  any  sort.  Placing  this  scheme 
as  a  type  of  its  class  in  the  same  category  with  the 


The  Circular  Swindle.  341 

millions  of  railroad  bonds  not  worth  to-day,  and  which 
never  will  be,  the  paper  upon  which  they  are  written, 
and  how  far  are  any  of  the  schemes  that  created  them 
from  nothing  fit  to  rank  above  swindles  ?  Let  the  mil- 
lions whose  only  wealth  to-day  consists  of  these  worth- 
less promises,  answer. 

The  whole  country  has  gone  mad  over  a  false 
spirit  of  enterprise  during  these  later  years,  and 
its  only  road  to  financial  sanity  lies  in  coming  straight 
down  to  "  hard  pan,"  by  refusing  to  invest  a  dollar 
in  any  public  enterprise  that  does  not  bear  upon  its 
face  the  evidence  that  it  is  an  indispensable  one, 
and  that  it  must  be  made  to  pay.  When  bond- 
holders learn  the  simple  truth,  as  they  will  at  some 
time  not  far  distant,  that  a  railroad  or  municipal  bond 
is  nothing  but  an  evidence  of  indebtedness,  and  that 
it  can  have  but  little  real  value  until  the  thing  it 
stands  for  has  paid  for  itself,  there  will  be  no  difficulty 
in  deciding  between  the  good  and  the-good-for  noth- 
ing in  the  way  of  bonded  wealth.  But  our  business 
is  with  circular  swindlers  of  every  class,  not  political 
economy,  though  the  latter  subject  is  just  now  the 
all  important  one  to  Americans. 

This  "Industrial"  scheme  is  simply  a  lottery  in 
which  all  the  money  that  is  made  will  be  realized  in 
the  way  of  commissions  paid  to  the  agents  who  sell  the 
tickets  or  so-called  bonds,  the  balance  of  profits  will 
go  into  the  pockets  of  the  man  who  owns  that  portion 
of  the  mudhole  upon  which  it  is  proposed  to  erect  the 
a  Palace  of  Industry."  Should  it  ever  be  built,  innu- 
merable scows  will  be  required  to  ferry  ticket  holders 
to  the  first  "Exhibition."  It  is  safe  to  say  that  those 
who  embark  will  have  a  financial  Charon  for  a  ferry- 
man, and  that  at  the  end  of  the  journey  will  be  seen 


342  The  Circular  Swindle. 

the  "Palace,"  destined  to  swallow  "both  the  coupon 
holders  and  their  expectations. 

It  is  barely  possible,  however,  that  in  humble  imita- 
tion of  our  enterprising  and  sanguine  Poughkeepsie 
neighbors,  who  laid  the  "cornerstone"  of  their  great 
"  Bridge"  a  few  years  ago,  amidst  the  huzzas  of  some- 
thing less  than  a  million  of  deluded  people,  that  a 
similar  exhibition  awaits  the  ticket  holders  of  the 
"  Great  Industrial  Exhibition."  We  were  present  at 
the  laying  of  the  "corner-stone"  of  the  Poughkeepsie 
"  Enterprise  "  a  work  still  in  f  utxiro,  and  which  the 
people  of  a  hundred  years  hence  may  wake  up  some 
morning  to  find  realized  at  some  other  point  of  the 
"  noble  Hudson."  But  then  the  dinner  that  Pough- 
keepsie gave  on  that  august  and  ever-to-be  memor- 
able occasion,  was  surely  an  elegant  one,  and  did  not 
the  guests  put  on  their  spectacles  of  gold  in  order  to 
sharpen  up  the  appetite  by  a  good  look  at  the  silver 
covers,  and  that  gorgeous  "  bill  of  fare,"  printed  in 
letters  of  gold  on  satin  gloss  vellum,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Poughkeepsie's  Mayor?  And  did  not  the 
Mayor  "von  vow,"  and  declare  that  the  "bridge" 
should  be  completed  in  thirty  days,  and  that  the 
first  "  coal  train  "  from  Scranton  and  other  sooty  re- 
gions of  the  Pennsylvania  hills,  loaded  to  the  brim  with 
"  black  diamonds  "  from  these  same  elevations,  would 
traverse  the  "  Poughkeepsie  and  Eastern  "  road,  to 
the  "  Connecticut  Western,"  so  that  every  Boston  sub- 
cellar  should  be  filled  with  fuel  without  money  and 
without  price,  before  the  Christmas  holidays  of  that 
fearfully  memorable  year  ?  Alas  !  how  gorgeous  the 
visions  conjured  up  by  that  gorgeous  Mayor,  that 
believing  Common  Council,  and  that  expectant  mul- 
titude, and  alas,  too,  where  is  the  Bridge  ?    Echo  an- 


The  Circular  Swindle, 


343 


swers,  and  repeating  echoes  will  take  up  the  refrain 
and  keep  on  answering  fainter  and  fainter  through  a 
hundred  financial  crashes  yet  to  come — "where?" 
But  then  how  glorious  to  remember  the  crowd  that 
tossed  high  in  air  (in  imitation  of  the  Romans)  its 
sweaty  night-caps  at  the  Mayor  and  his  u  big  bridge." 

A  word  more  about  this  "  Industrial  "  lottery.  Wo 
presume  it  to  be  in  character  precisely  what  the  late 
"Louisville  scheme"  was.  At  the  drawings  of  the 
latter  a  great  deal  of  dramatic  effect  was  produced  by 
the  presence  on  the  stage  of  the  "  solid  men  "  of  Louis- 
ville. We  wonder  if  in  future  drawings  of  the  great 
"Industrial  "  a  similar  effort  will  be  attempted  ?  How 
soothing  it  would  be  to  the  lacerated  bosoms  of  dis- 
appointed  coupon  holders,  to  see  before  them  on  the 
stage,  looking  down  from  its  serene  heights  upon  the 
waiting  crowd  below,  the  solid,  the  venerable,  the 
eminently  respectable  men  of  Gotham.  What  picture 
of  moral  grandeur  more  sublime,  could  be  drawn  for 
the  contemplation  of  posterity  than  that  of  a  lottery 
drawing  of  the  "  Great  Industrial,"  on  the  stage  of 
which  should  be  seated  such  men  as  A.  T.  Stewart, 
Win.  C.  Bryant,  Hamilton  Fish,  Wm.  B.  Astor,  A\rm. 
B.  Odgen,  "  and  others  !" 

What  a  volume  would  that  be  in  bulk  and  interest 
that  would  gather  to  itself  a  bare  record  of  the  swin- 
dles that  have  had  their  day  and  generation  during 
the  past  fifteen  years  from  the  commencement  of  the 
great  and  good  Jay  Cooke's  career  as  a  bond  manipu- 
lator, down  to  Colfax's  "one  thousand  dollar  notes 
from  a  friend,"  and  the  Credit  2fobilier !  Jay  Cooke 
advising  the  holders  of  U.  S.  bonds  to  trade  them  off 
for  those  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad.  How  like 
Banquo's  ghosts  in   Macbeth  must   pass  before  the 


34:4:  The  Circular  Swindle. 


once  great  but  now  retired  banker's  eyes  the  long  pro- 
cession of  widows  and  orphans  impoverished  by  his 
manipulating  hand! 

The  land  swindles  alone,  from  those  engineered  at 
Washington,  some  of  them  under  official  auspices^ 
down  to  the  latest,  pettiest  local  land  "  raffle,"  would 
fill  a  good  sized  book.  Here  is  one,  an  account  of 
which  we  clip  from  a  recent  number  of  the  Prairie 
Farmer,  a  Missouri  paper  published  at  Forsyth,  in  that 
State 

"  On  last  Tuesday  evening  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Lyon 
arrived  in  our  village  for  the  purpose  of  locating  in  this  county. 
He  hails  from  Virginia,  and  has  bought  a  section  of  land  from 
one  P.  S.  Hoaglaud. 

"  It  turns  out  that  the  land  is  held  under  an  old  Spanish  grant, 
which  is  worthless  so  far  as  the  records  show.  We  don't  like  t<> 
meddle  with  other  men's  business,  but  we  have  concluded  to  ven- 
tilate the  swindle,  and  run  the  risk  for  a  suit  of  damages,  believ- 
ing that  the  facts  will  bear  us  out  in  denouncing  it  as  one  of  the 
most  gigantic  land  swindles  ever  perpetrated,  and  that  the  public 
will  justify  our  act. 

On  the  28th  day  of  February,  1871,  one  S.  T.  Hoyt,  of  New 
York  city,  filed  with  the  recorder  of  this  county  an  Abstract  of 
Title,  purporting  to  be  a  grant  made  in  the  year  1793,  by  Baron 
de  Carondelet,  Governor  General  of  the  Province  of  Louisiana, 
to  one  Don  Joseph  Valliere,  who  died  leaving  this  tract  of  land 
to  his  heirs,  and  on  the  5th  day  of  June,  1841,  the  Valliere  heirs 
made  power  of  attorney  to  one  Creed  Taylor,  to  dispose  of  said 
lauds,  and  on  the  same  day  Creed  Taylor  conveyed  the  land  to 
one  John  Wilson,  and  on  the  23d  day  of  August,  1863,  John  Wil- 
son conveyed  all  of  said  lands  to  S.  T.  Hoyt,  embracing  the  fol- 
lowing territory :  Ten  leagues  on  both  banks  of  the  Rio  Blanco 
(White  River.)  Beginning  at  the  most  western  branch  of  said 
river,  thence  running  ten  leagues  in  a  south  direction,  thence  on 
the  south  a  parallel  line  with  said  river  at  a  distance  of  ten  leagues 
until  it  intersects  the  Rio  Cibulos  (supposed  to  be  the  Butfalo)  at 
a  point  ten  leagues  in  a  direct  line  with  White  River,  following 
this  as  to  the  mouth  of  Norte  Grande,  (supposed  to  be  the  North 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


345 


Fork),  up  the  same  to  a  point  ten  leagues  in  a  direct  line  from  its 
mouth,  thence  ascending  the  White  River  to  the  north  in  a  wes- 
terly direction  ten  leagues  from  the  same  as  far  as  its  source, 
thence  to  the  place  of  beginning. 

"  This  grant  covers  Ozark.  Taney  and  Stone,  and  a  portion  of 
Douglas,  Christian,  Berry  and  McDonald  counties  in  this  State, 
and  a  large  portion  of  Washington,  Madison,  Carroll,  Boone.  Ma- 
rion, Baxter  and  a  small  portion  of  Benton  and  Johnson  counties 
in  Arkansas,  or  an  area  of  about  9,000  square  miles.  Mr.  Iloyt 
has  sold  thousands  of  acres  of  this  claim  to  honest,  hard-working 
men  all  over  the  Union ;  his  victims  are  scattered  from  the  Atlan- 
tic to  the  Pacific,  and  from  Maine  to  Texas.  In  many  instances 
the  same  tract  of  land  has  been  sold  and  transferred  to  as  many 
as  three  or  four  different  parties.  Mr.  Hoyt,  not  satisfied  with 
what  he  could  do,  has  employed  other  parties  to  assist  him.  These 
men  appear  to  have  their  head  quarters  in  N"ew  York  city,  and 
branch  offices  in  all  the  principal  cities  in  the  Union,  and  espe- 
cially in  Chicago." 

How  many  nibbled  at  this  tempting  bait,  it  is  im- 
possible to  say,  but  Hoyt  retired  upon  a  competency, 
and  it  is  reported,  still  manages  to  keep  those  to  whom 
lie  sold  the  lands  in  question,  on  the  tenter-hooks  of  a 
blissful  expectation,  by  befogging  the  title  to  the  lands 
passed.  Before  disposing  of  any  of  the  lands  under 
this  "  Spanish "  transfer,  Hoyt  was  smart  enough  to 
trump  up  and  parade  legal  opinions  from  Rufus  Choate, 
Daniel  Webster,  and  other  great  lawyers  long  since 
gone  to  that  shadowy  realm  where  titles  of  the  Hoyt 
stamp  are  unknown,  and  who  of  course  will  not  come 
back  to  explain  the  swindle. 

STILL  ANOTHER. 

This  was  a  manufacturing  swindle,  and  hailed  from 
Yicksburg,  Miss.  How  sweetly  its  "  superb  "  English 
fell  upon  the  willing  ears,  and  they  were  legion,  of 
those  who  swallowed  this  hook,  baited  with  a  $5  bill. 
Here  it  is : 


The  Cvrcular  Swindle. 


"Vicksbtjbo,  Miss.,  Jan.  21,  1874. 
Dear  Sir :  -Will  you,  upon  receipt  of  $1,000,'  allow  us  to  have 
your  improved  Walk  Edger,  manufactured  to  supply  the  trade  of 
the  South  and  West,  for  a  term  of  two  years,  with  a  royalty  of 
$2  on  each  one  sold?  If  you  desire  to  dispose  of  your  invention 
in  this  manner,  send  $o  to  pay  attorney's  fee  for  examining  title, 
etc.,  upon  receipt  of  which  we  will  make  the  necessary  inquiries 
at  the  Patent  Office,  and  have  your  invention  examined  before  a 
board  of  competent  judges,  when,  if  everything  is  perfectly  satis- 
factory, we  will  remit  the  amount  by  draft,  on  any  Bank  you  may 
name ;  the  same  to  be  subject  to  your  order,  upon  receipt  by  us 
of  the  necessary  transfer.  Our  arrangements  will  not  prevent  you 
from  selling  in  any  States  you  may  receive  offers  for.  Comply 
with  our  terms  at  once,  if  you  desire  to  have  us  take  hold  of  it. 
Respectfully,  and  truly  yours, 

Miss.  Valley  Manufacturing  Company." 

At  the  top  of  the  accompanying  circular,  was  the 
cut  of  a  factory  of  immense  dimensions,  but  which  was 
a  factory  only  on  paper.  Though  barefaced,  this 
swindle  had  a  tremendous  run,  the  $5  proving  the 
snare  that  took  in  inventors  from  all  directions.  Even 
the  patent-right  men,  who  are  generally  supposed  to 
be  "  up  to  snuff,"  went  in  on  this  at  short  notice, 
and  came  out  a  good  deal  wiser  than  when  they 
entered.  The  dodge  was  finally  traced  to  one  Dedrick 
by  a  reporter  of  the  Daily  Yicksburger,  in  the  follow- 
ing interview  : 

"  Reporter— I  understand  you  represent  the  Mississippi  Valley 
Manufacturing  Company,  and  that  you  send  these  circulars 
(picking  up  one  on  a  table  near  by)  to  various  parts  of  the 
country  ? 

Mr.  D. — Yes,  sir!  I  solicit,  by  means  of  this  circular,  the 
privilege  of  manufacturing  patented  articles,  such  as  would  sell  in 
this  section  of  the  country. 

Reporter — Does  it  not  require  an  immense  capital  to  obtain 
this  right,  provided  you  must  offer  a  large  sum  for  it  ? 

Mr.  D.—lt  would  undoubtedly  require  an  immense  capital,  but 


The  Circular  Swindle. 


347 


we  never  offer  more  than  one  or  two  hundred  dollars,  in  no  case 
over  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

Reporter — I  observe  that  this  company  was  established  in  1801. 
I  don't  remember  seeing  you  here  during  that  year,  nor  have  I 
ever  seen  such  buildings  here  as  appear  in  this  circular. 

After  a  vain  effort  to  convince  our  reporter  that  the  war  closed 
in  1861,  and  that  he  came  here  then  and  opened  business  in  the 
Prentiss  House,  and  finding  that  his  intervie.ver  knew  exactly 
when  he  did  come  here,  and  that  it  was  in  1870,  Mr.  Dedrick 
stated  that  the  company  must  have  the  semblance  of  nge,  and  tor 
that  reason,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  put  in  the  figures  1861.  Regard- 
ing the  building,  he  said  that  he  had  the  lithograph  made  to 
represent  any  factory,  that  being  a  matter  of  small  consequence. 
He  also  stated  that  he  had  sent  some  ten  or  twelve,  or  probably* 
two  dozen,  of  these  circulars  to  different  parties.  If  our  reporter 
is  not  very  much  mistaken,  he  saw  a  clerk  writing  similar  ones  as 
fast  as  his  pen  could  travel,  and  as  he  was  obtaining  addresses 
from  a  sort  of  directory,  he  contemplated  sending  several  thou- 
sand, no  doubt." 

The  following,  dipt  from  the  columns  of  the  New 
York  Herald,  explains  the  high  character  of  the 
lawyer  and  the  business  : 

T\IVORCES  legally  obtained ;  no  publicity;  no  fee  in  advance. 
*J  M.  House,  Attorney,  194  Broadway. 

The  manner  in  which  Mr.  House  obtains  business 
will  be  best  understood  by  the  following,  from  a  victim, 
writing  to  the  Chicago  Tribune : 

Sir  :  Seeing  an  account  of  a  divorce  expose  of  one  A.  Goodrich, 
I  would  wish  you  to  do  me  the  favor  of  answering  through  your 
columns  the  following : — Four  years  ago,  through  one  M.  House, 
of  this  city,  I  obtained  a  divorce  in  Chicago  from  that  man,  Good- 
rich. I  never  lived  there,  nor  ever  saw  Chicago.  Is  my  divorce 
any  good  ?    That  Goodrich  does  all  Mr.  House's  business. 

Yours,  etc.,  Julia  A.  G. 

New  York,  Jan.  24,  1874. 


Hie  Herald  advertisement  was  the  baitj  and  the 


3±S 


The  Gircidar  Swindle. 


Tribune  thus  gives  an  account  of  the  legal  modus 

operandi : 

"  A  woman  went  to  the  New  Orleans  agent  and  ordered  a 
Chicago  divorce,  and  was  in  a  hurry  for  it.  The  agent  tele- 
graphed to  Goodrich  as  follows  : 

'  One  divorce  for  Mrs.  ,  married  four  years,  on  ground  of 

desertion  and  drunkenness.    Remit  by  express.' 

The  woman  got  the  divorce  promptly,  and  with  it  a  bill 
like  this : 

'  Mrs.          to  Chicago  Divorce  Agency  (New  Orleans  branch) 

Dr.  One  divorce  by  drunkenness  and  desertion,  $15.  Received 
payment.' 

(Divorces  warranted  for  two  years.)" 

How  assuring  must  have  been  that  "  warrantee  " — 
good  for  two  years — two  years  of  undisturbed  repose 
to  this  legally-divorced  and  now  happy  client !  And 
so  it  goes  on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  or  rather  to 
chapters  that  have  no  end. 

Chicago  has  proved  herself  the  most  prolific  in 
swindles  of  any  western  city,  and  must  hence  bear  the 
palm  for  this  sort  of  smartness.  One  of  her  latest 
efforts  in  this  line  was  the  Union  Furnishing  Co.  of 
that  enterprising  locality.  The  Co.,  which  never  had 
any  real,  but  only  a  "  circular  "  existence,  was  run  by 
Hodge  &  Co.  As  Hodge  &  Co.  now  sleep  with  their 
fathers  of  the  profession  which  they  once  adorned, 
their  character,  as  shown  by  the  Chicago  papers,  is 
nut  worth  repeating,  and  we  do  so  only  to  show  how  a 
concern  of  this  sort  will  inveigle  pious  clergymen  into 
the  selling  of  their  tickets.  The  following,  from  the 
Lacon  (ill.)  Journal  explains  itself,  and  with  it  we 
close  this  chapter  with  a  sad  sort  of  feeling  that  smart 
[is  we  are  in  a  thousand  ways,  the  fools  among  us  seem 
in  a  fair  way  of  remaining  on  earth  for  a  long  time 


The  Circular  Swindle.  349 

i 

yet  to  come.  One  would  suppose  that  the  generation 
of  these  dupes  would  die  out  as  we  go  along,  but  every 
year  produces  a  new  crop.  This  is  the  way  in  which 
Mrs.  Marki,  one  of  the  latest  of  these,  conies  to  grief: 

"This  swindling  firm  of  Hodge  &  Co.  of  Chicago,  which 
lately  collapsed,  seems  to  have  done  a  much  greater  business  than 
has  been  supposed,  and  got  awaj  with  large  sums  of  money.  A 
local  preacher  living  near  Northampton  sold  three  hundred 
tickets.  So  taken  up  with  the  scheme  was  he  that  he  abandoned 
his  preaching  and  worked  night  and  day.  A  Mrs.  Marki,  wife  of 
'big  Dan'  the  butcher,  who  formerly  lived  in  Lacon,  met  with 
equal  if  not  greater  success.  She  is  an  invalid  and  most  of  the 
time  confined  to  her  bed  ;  but  the  prospect  of  such  ample  returns 
imparted  new  life,  and  she  too  labored  zealously  and  successfully, 
quite  forgetting  her  ailments.  One  poor  woman  took  one  hundred 
tickets,  and  altogether  the  sales  were  something  remarkable. 
Finally  the  orders  were  sent  off,  and  impatiently  she  waited  the 
rich  returns  sure  to  come.  Each  day  for  weeks  as  the  express 
came  in  she  was  at  the  office  to  receive  them,  and  the  stereotyped 
inquiry  was  made,  '  Anything  for  Mrs.  Marki  V  Finally,  after 
waiting  until  hope  deferred  had  made  her  sick  in  reality,  a  large 
box  did  arrive,  and  the  welcome  news  was  brought  home,  fol- 
lowed by  a  dray  with  the  goods.  Such  valuables  must  not  be  ex- 
posed out  of  doors,  and  so  it  was  taken  to  the  parlor,  where  a 
large  crowd  had  assembled  to  view  them.  The  cover  was  removed, 
and  Mrs.  Marki,  beseeching  the  crowd  to  stand  back,  for  she  was 
going  to  handle  the  rich  laces  and  dress  goods  first,  carefully 
removed  several  layers  of  paper,  and  revealed,  in  all  its  beauty, 
the  skul  of  a  dead  cow.  Some  wicked  wags  had  concocted  the 
Bell,  and  fixed  up  the  box  for  the  occasion.  Mrs.  M.  gave  one 
agonizing  groan,  and  sat  down  so  suddenly  on  the  floor  as  to 
frighten  her  next  door  neighbors  into  the  momentary  belief  that 
an  earthquake  had  happened." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A  RIDE  DOWN  BROADWAY. 

London  has  its  Recent  street,  a  world  of  shops  in 
itself,  its  Paternoster  Row,  where  the  publishers  bur- 
row, its  Strand,  and  its  Oxford  street,  each  distinctive, 
but  all  thoroughly  English.  Paris  has  her  Boulevards, 
and  her  Rne  de  la  Paix,  and  Rome  her  Corso,  each  a 
picture  of  the  civilization  it  represents,  but  expressive 
of  nothing  beyond  its  local  traditions.  In  whatever 
direction  the  traveler  bends  his  footsteps,  these  same 
marked,  stereotyped  peculiarities  of  architecture  and 
of  business  characteristics,  confront  him,  until  the  eye, 
tired  of  individuality,  longs  for  a  living  picture  that 
can  present  in  a  single  view  an  epitome  of  the  world's 
progress  and  the  world's  activity.  There  is  but  one 
such  street,  and  that  is  our  own  Broadway. 

Though  in  reality,  less  than  a  century  old,  as  it  had 
scarcely  a  single  feature  of  its  present  appearance 
until  the  incoming  of  the  present  century,  it  has 
gathered  to  itself  in  its  architecture,  its  shops,  its 
vehicles,  its  equipages,  its  costumes,  and  its  manners, 
the  very  best  of  all  these,  culled  from  every  corner, 
however  remote,  of  the  representative  cities  of  the  old 
world.  But,  while  drawing  upon  so  great  a  variety 
of  sources  for  materials,  it  must  be  set  down  to  our 
credit  that  we  have  not  been  satisfied  to  become  mere 
imitators  of  what  we  have  seen  elsewhere.  Though 
unlocking  our  ports  to  emigrants  from  every  land,  they 
did  not  begin  to  pour  in  upon  us  in  large  masses  until 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway.  351 


after  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  so  that 
Broadway  as  a  great  thoroughfare  stands  to-day  the 
representative  of  all  that  is  most  valuable  in  modern 
activity  and  enterprise. 

It  is  more  than  two  hundred  years  since  Henry  Hud- 
son started  out  for  the  north-east  passage  to  India, 
arriving  in  Xew  York  harbor  on  the  3d  of  Si  p- 
tember,  1609.  The  painted  savage  met  him  at  what  is 
now  the  Battery,  but  it  was  not  until  1056  that  the 
town  was  laid  out  into  streets,  so  that  Broadway  may 
date  its  beginning  from  that  year.  The  city's  popula- 
tion was  then  one  thousand  souls,  domiciled  in  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  dwellings. 

A  little  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago,  the 
Indians  sold  Manhattan  Island  to  the  whites  for  the 
nominal  sum  of  twenty-four  dollars,  to-day  the  assessed 
value  of  its  real  estate  alone  exceeds  five  hundred  mil- 
lions. History  will  be  searched  in  vain  to  discover  at 
once  so  rapid  and  so  marvelous  a  march  toward  opu- 
lence and  commercial  distinction,  one  that  might  aptly 
be  termed  the  march  of  a  hundred  years.  From  the 
advent  of  British  rule  under  the  Duke  of  York,  until 
the  appearance  of  the  first  newspaper  in  1725,  Broad- 
way was  a  mere  span,  without  form  or  comeliness. 
To-day  if  you  should  ask  a  Xew  Yorker  even,  where 
Broadway  ends,  he  would  hesitate  a  moment,  and  then 
say,  "  Really,  sir,  I  don't  quite  know,  but  somewhere 
I  should  say  across  the  Harlem,  in  Westchester 
County."  One  old  gentleman  to  whom  I  propounded 
this  enigma,  answered  very  curtly  that  "  the  Broad- 
way street  lamps  were  lighted  every  night  up  to 
lGTth  street,  but  that  Broadway  itself  went  on  to 
Albany."  Being  an  old  Holland  Dutchman,  Broad- 
way to  him  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  Bloom- 


S52 


A  Huh  Down  Broad' cay. 


ingdale  Road,  and  that  lays  its  hand  in  that  of  the 
"  old  post  road,"  somewhere  near  Cannansville,  run- 
ning thence  to  the  state  capital. 

Broadway  is  now  lighted  about  twelve  miles  ;  in 
1G97  every  seventh  house  was  ordered  to  hang  out  a 
lantern  with  a  candle  in  it,  in  order,  we  suppose,  that 
our  good  Dutch  ancestors,  who  were  given  a  little  to 
saner-kraut  and  other  Dutch  luxuries,  could  find  their 
way  home  with  safety  after  an  evening's  indulgence. 
The  Broadway  with  which  we  have  to  deal,  is  that 
which  runs  its  magnificent  course  from  Bowling  Green 
to  the  Harlem  river,  and  as  our  eye  sweeps  up  and 
down  from  the  curve  of  Grace  Church,  we  realize  for 
the  first  time  how  inadequate  is  pen  or  pencil  to  picture 
it  as  it  is.  Nevertheless  here  it  lies,  the  immense  fact 
born  of  a  century,  the  great  business  heart  of  western 
civilization,  its  pulsations  sending  commercial  life  and 
vis:or  to  ten  thousand  marts  lvinoj  between  the  Atlantic 
and  the  Pacific,  and  the  lumber  forests  of  Maine  to 
the  shores  of  the  great  Gulf.  AVe  do  not  propose  to 
write  its  history,  for  its  daily  record  is  the  outgrowth 
of  its  daily  activity,  a  continuous  whirl  that  knows  no 
ending.  It  is  a  thoroughfare  that  never  goes  to  sleep. 
Traverse  certain  portions  of  it  at  what  hour  of  the  day 
or  night  you  will,  somebody  will  be  there  to  greet  you. 
It  is  a  highway  that  echoes  and  re-echoes  ever  to  the 
tread  of  the  pedestrian,  or  the  hoofs  that  keep  it  warm 
with  their  incessant  clatter.  Like  our  own  vernacular, 
it  has  its  moods  and  tenses,  its  declensions  and  con- 
junctions, though  its  talk  is  as  varied  as  the  nationalities 
that  people  it.  To  follow  it  through  a  day,  and  no  two 
of  its  days  are  alike,  though  it  does  present  a  kind  of 
unity  in  its  infinite  variety,  would  be  like  following  a 
wayward  child  through  a  day  of  mad  galloping  and 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 


353 


running.  From  early  morn  to  early  morn  again  it 
knows  no  moment  of  absolute  solitude,  its  pulse  never 
slips  a  beat,  though  it  sometimes  does  get  in  a  flutter, 
but  beats  straight  on  in  unison  with  the  tick  of  the 
clocks  that  hang  in  its  spires,  their  faces  always  un- 
veiled to  the  busy  throng  that  surges  by  them.  Between 
midnight  and  the  first  streak  of  dawn,  a  thousand 
market  wagons,  loaded  with  every  product  known  to 
the  vegetable  kingdom  of  Westchester,  from  the  tiniest 
radish  to  the  biggest  West-India  pumpkin,  rattle  their 
way  to  the  old  Washington  and  other  down-town 
markets,  thence  to  be  transferred  to  the  kitchens  of  the 
good  livers  of  Gotham.  A  little  later,  the  up-town 
grocer  and  market  wagons  join  the  procession,  and  by 
seven  o'clock  the  return  march  has  almost  ceased,  and 
every  turnip  and  cabbage  is  laid  out  to  tempt  the 
market-woman's  basket. 

From  six  to  seven  o'clock  mechanical  New  York, 
which  begins  its  daily  work  at  the  latter  hour,  sends  a 
portion  of  those  who  walk  to  business  down  Broadway, 
the  current,  however,  is  not  so  strong  as  of  old,  before 
the  city  cars  came  on  parallel  lines  to  pick  up  the 
artizan  and  the  laborer  on  his  toilsome  march.  An 
hour  and  a  half  later,  a  looker-on  at  some  point,  say 
Union  Square,  can  witness  the  gradual  rising  of  the 
vast  human  tide  that  will  bear  on  its  bosom  for  the 
next  two  hours  or  more  the  business  men  of  the  city. 
What  a  motley'crowd  it  is  to  be  sure,  that  will  pass 
before  us  during  these  two  hours  of  passage  !  How 
many  thousand  schemes  and  secrets  lie  locked  in  the 
bosoms  of  this  innumerable  throng !  How  many 
thousands  who  rush  to  business  with  hearts  as  light  as 
the  day  itself,  will  come  heavily  back  on  the  returning 
evening  tide  !    By  half-past  nine  this  current  is  at  its 


354 


A  Ride  Down  Broadway, 


flood,  and  soon  the  lowest  point  will  be  reached. 
"What  a  vast  human  panorama  !  What  possibilities  of 
gait,  of  face,  of  costume,  are  gathered  within  it !  How 
many  of  the  crowd  now  on  their  way  to  pay  their 
respects  to  the  hard-faced,  grim  god  of  business,  will 
come  back  freighted  with  blighted  hopes  and  withered 
expectations  !  What  a  study  for  some  young  Hogarth 
or  Nast  would  this  crowd  furnish,  could  he  face  the 
whole  current  as  it  passes !  Here  goes  one  who  has 
got  his  speed  up  to  the  highest  point  within  the  limits 
of  a  trot  or  canter.  With  eye  fixed  on  the  business 
problem  of  the  day,  he  heeds  not  the  dull  rumble  of  the 
'buss,  or  the  evenly  moving  throng.  At  very  short 
f intervals  he  "pulls  out,"  as  the  horsemen  say,  and 
"  cuts  by "  a  squad  whose  leisurely  pace  annoys 
him.  He  is  the  average  New  Yorker,  and  takes  to 
business  as  a  duck  to  the  nearest  fish  pond.  With 
what  consummate,  sinuous  grace  he  winds  his  way 
through  the  throng,  making  two  blocks  to  its  one  in 
his  eager  haste  to  reach  that  most  delightful  of  all 
nooks  to  the  enterprising,  ambitious  American,  his 
counting-room  or  other  place  of  business.  He  is  neat- 
ness personified,  and  the  soul  of  method  and  despatch 
appears  in  every  mark  of  his  make-up.  A  million 
such  as  he,  would  make  a  human  "  ant-hill  of  units 
and  tens." 

Anon  comes  along  the  business  dandy  or  exquisite. 
He  is  gloved,  clean  shaved,  every  hair  in  his  head  is 
oiled  and  tuned  up  to  concert  pitch,  his  clothes  are  of 
the  best  quality  and  freshest  make,  and  he  invariably 
wears  a  cane.  He  glides  along  leisurely,  keeping  step 
to  the  music  of  the  latest  operatic  air  which  he  hums 
as  he  goes  with  entire  self-satisfaction  and  content. 
The  first  is  the  representative  business  New  Ycrker, 


A  Hide  Down  Broadway,  355 

the  second  represents  a  small  class  of  favored  ones 
who  have  come  to  business  as  an  inheritance,  but  have 
not  worked  their  way  to  independence  as  the  others 
are  doing  or  have  already  done. 

One  soon  learns  to  single  out  the  habitue  of  Broad- 
way, for  his  dress,  his  gait,  his  manners,  his  everything 
localizes  him,  and  tells  the  story  of  his  life,  as  it  were. 
His  hat  and  shoes  are  always  glossy,  and  his  clothes 
free  from  lint  or  aught  else  that  is  unsightly.  His 
country  brother  merchant  you  know  at  a  glance.  His 
shoes  are  blackened  in  front  but  not  in  the  rear,  and 
he  wears  the  fast-growing  inevitable  soft  hat.  He  af- 
fects gloves  sometimes,  but  they  don't  sit  easily  upon 
him,  while  to  the  hand  of  the  Newr  Yorker,  man  or 
woman,  a  glove  clings  as  evenly  as  the  cuticle  it  covers, 
and  is  worn,  moreover,  as  if  it  were  a  part  of  the  hand 
itself.  This,  by  the  way,  may  be  remarked  of  every 
other  article  of  dress  worn  by  the  well-bred  Gothamite, 
and  of  his  gait  as  well,  while  a  New  York  woman  has 
no  superior,  if  indeed  she  has  a  rival,  for  graceful 
carriage  or  taste  in  dress.  As  a  walker,  she  is  ad- 
mitted by  unprejudiced  foreigners  even,  to  be  the  most 
superb  in  the  world.  When  it  comes  to  our  old  or 
middle-aged  business  men,  we  don't  present  so  many 
healthy  or  well-preserved  specimens  as  can  be  found 
in  any  of  the  large  cities  of  Europe,  our  climate  and 
our  business  habits  being  altogether  unfavorable  to 
fleshy  accumulations. 

A  lawyer  can  be  picked  from  out  this  mass  with 
almost  unerring  certainty.  There  is  a  jerk  in  his  gait, 
and  a  general  crispiness  in  his  make-up  that  betokens 
his  cloth.  Aforetime  he  rarely  made  his  appearance 
in  colors,  but  wore  mourning  invariably,  as  being  more 
compatible  with  the  dignity  of  his  profession.  Now, 


356 


A  Hide  Down  Broadway. 


catching  the  go-ahead  inspiration  of  the  age,  he  some- 
times affects  colors,  but  they  are  oddly  suited  to  him, 
and  the  change  is  made,  we  half  suspect,  as  a  means 
of  dispelling  in  part  the  darkness  of  the  dingy  holes  in 
which  he  was  wont  to  burrow  during  the  day.  Fancy 
Alexander  Hamilton,  with  his  powdered  wig,  cue  and 
knee  breeches,  going  down  Broadway  in  a  suit  of 
Scotch  gray.  The  costume  of  the  days  of  Washington 
had  fur  many  years  a  sole  representative  on  Broad- 
way on  the  person  of  the  late  amiable  Doctor  Coombs. 
"With  him  it  passed  away,  perhaps,  for  all  time,  but  it 
formed  for  a  goodly  period  a  most  picturesque  link 
between  the  present  and  the  past  century. 

Of  human  oddities  Broadway  has  its  full  share. 
Here,  for  example,  is  our  country  cousin.  He  has 
come  down  to  the  great  city  for  the  first  time,  and 
Broadway  bursts  upon  his  enchanted,  bewildered  eyes 
as  if  it  were  fairy  land  brought  to  earth.  His  wonder- 
ing earnest  eye  takes  in  everything,  not  at  a  glance,  and 
with  one  sweep,  but  object  by  object.  The  busy  New 
Yorker  sees  nothing  in  Broadway  but  the  counting- 
room  at  the  end  of  it.  To  him  it  is  a  solitude,  the 
place  above  all  others  to  solve  a  knotty  problem.  He 
throws  himself  on  its  broad  current,  and  glides  along 
wrapt  in  a  sort  of  blissful  oblivion.  Husticus  has  no 
time  for  dreams.  To  him  there  is  nothing  so  palpable 
as  Broadway,  and  though  he  be  not  conscious  of  it,  he 
is  for  the  time  its  most  palpable  fact.  The  practiced 
navigator  of  this  most  busy  of  thoroughfares  in  the 
world  will  furl  his  sails  at  Fourteenth  street,  and  go  to 
Wall  street  at  any  hour  of  the  day  without  a  collision. 
Not  so  with  Husticus.  If  he  stops  to  talk  for  a  mo- 
ment, or  to  look  in  at  a  shop  window,  it  is  more  diffi- 
cult to  get  around  him  than  it  is  to  cross  Broadway 


A  Ride  Down  Broadway. 


357 


at  the  Astor  House  at  noonday.  lie  always  brings 
his  field  gait  with  him,  a  pace  far  slower  than  that 
used  by  any  of  his  city  cousins,  and  should  one  of 
these  attempt  to  slip  by  him  in  the  whirl,  he  will  be 
found  a  somewhat  awkward  fact  to  overcome.  Never- 
theless, and  in  spite  of  this  unwieldiness,  there  is  a 
certain  well-bred  homeliness  in  his  unpretending  inde- 
pendence and  indifference  to  all  around  him  that  ren- 
ders him  an  object  of  almost  picturesque  interest,  and 
it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  this  same  clever  bit  of 
homespun  has  in  him  the  stuff  that  the  real  gentleman 
is  made  of,  and  that  a  year  or  so  of  town  life  is  all  that 
is  needed  to  make  him  presentable  in  the  best  draw- 
ing rooms  of  the  city,  all  showing  a  native  superiority 
that  cannot  be  found  in  men  of  his  class  anywhere  in 
the  world  outside  of  this  country.  It  is  needful  to 
add  that  this  fact  is  in  itself  the  highest  encomium 
that  can  be  pronounced  upon  a  system  which  throws 
open  alike  to  all  its  subjects  every  avenue  to  distinc- 
tion in  business  or  professional  life,  creating  possibili- 
ties that  make  the  peasant  of  yesterday  the  millionaire 
of  to-day ! 

It  is  now  eleven  o'clock,  and  for  the  next  three  hours 
or  more  there  will  be  a  lull  of  pedestrians  in  upper 
Broadway.  The  crowd  that  has  passed  will  be  busy 
at  its  sales  and  its  book-keeping,  its  calculations  and 
its  schemes.  Meantime  another  current  has  set  in,  for 
be  it  known  to  all  the  world  there  is  no  moment  when 
the  key  is  turned  in  the  dead-lock  of  Broadway ;  it  is 
a  tide  that  ebbs  and  flows  forever.  If  the  stranger 
will  take  the  trouble  to  halt  before  Stewart's  up-town 
store  for  an  hour,  he  will  have  an  opportunity  to 
look  over  the  flower  of  our  American  aristocracy, 
together  with  that  which,  not  to  speak  it  profanely, 


358 


A  Rich  Dov:n  Broadway. 


smells  of  the  finny  specimen  that  comes  from  Cape 
Cod. 

The  "  old  families/'  and  America  has  these  as  well 
as  Europe,  are  unmistakable  in  the  crowd.  Their  car- 
riages are  heavier  and  plainer  than  those  of  the  "  new 
people,"  as  are  also  their  liveries.  They  move  at  a 
slower,  well-bred  sort  of  gait,  just  to  show  that  they 
have  always  been  rich  enough  to  have  leisure  and  to 
spare.  Xo  rough  and  tumble  here,  all  goes  along 
smoothly,  though  somewhat  sleepily.  Its  o!d  women 
wear  puffed,  grizzly  hair,  and  are  a  little  wrinkled,  while 
the  younger  ones  have  a  kind  of  pasteboardish  appear- 
ance in  the  street,  but  at  home  they,  and  all  whom 
they  gather  about  them,  are  really  the  most  agreeable 
people  one  meets  in  Xew  York.  The  old  gentlemen  of 
this  "  set 7'  have  old-time,  unaffected  manners,  and  the 
young  ones  graduate  at  <;  Columbia,7'  and  then  go  to 
the  clubs,  and  wear  white  neck- ties. 

Firth  Avenue  boasts  but  a  few  of  these,  but  the 
neighborhood  of  Washington  and  St.  [Mark's  Place, 
and  Stuyvesant  Square  down  town,  and  the  cross 
streets  from  Fourteenth  up  beyond  Murray  Hill,  to- 
gether with  Madison  and  Lexington  avenues,  hold 
pretty  much  all  that  is  left  of  Xew  York's  old  aristoc- 
racy, but,  to  its  credit  it  must  be  said,  that  it  has  pre- 
served through  all  these  democratic  years  its  distinctive, 
old-time  character,  and  that  the  raids  of  "shoddy'' 
have  not  been  able  to  prevail  against  it.  Within  this 
charmed  circle  "  shoddy  "  never  makes  its  way,  save 
by  accident,  when  perhaps  one  of  its  young  scape-graces 
breaks  over  into  the  fold  and  appropriates  a  lamb  from 
the  thorough-bred  flock.  On  this  fine  September  day 
the  spurious  and  the  pure  gold  of  Xew  York's  society 
jostle  each  other  on  the  street,  and  in  the  6hops  and 


A  Rule  Down  Broadway, 


359 


stores.  The  difference  between  the  two  is  perceptible 
at  a  glance.  The  "  simon  pure,"  well  assured  of  its 
social  foundations,  bears  itself  with  a  certain  indescrib- 
able well-bred  ease  that  even  "shoddy,"  with  all  its 
money,  cannot  imitate,  save  in  a  way  to  render  it  ridi- 
culous, a  fact  worthy  of  note  by  the  way,  as  showing 
that  there  is  one  thing  on  earth  that  money  alone  can- 
not buy,  and  that  is  the  culture  and  charming  man- 
ners, the  outgrowth  of  a  lifetime  of  pleasant  associa- 
tions and  surroundings. 

Stop  just  here  for  a  moment  and  you  shall  see  that 
there  still  lives  among  us  the  old-fashioned  fine  lady, 
not  that  traditional  bit  of  womanhood,  arrogant, 
haughty,  and  combative,  which  "  shoddy  "  fears  and 
hates,  but  the  quiet,  dignified,  self-respectful  woman, 
well  assured  of  her  social  superiority,  but  so  consider- 
ate and  tender  of  the  claims  of  others,  and  so  civil  to 
all  at  home  and  abroad,  that  she  carries  with  her  a 
nameless  charm  wherever  she  goes.  The  practiced 
eye  discovers  her  in  a  crowd  instinctively.  At  Stew- 
art's, or  at  Ball  &  Black's,  or  on  the  street,  she  never 
stares  at  you  with  an  insolent,  vulgar  air,  as  does 
"  shoddy,"  through  its  gold  goggles,  but  shows  in  her 
manner  that  the  world  was  not  created  for  her  alone, 
though  she  reigns  in  it  a  very  queen. 

That  such  a  social  relic  of  the  past  remains  among 
us  in  spite  of  our  democratic  tendencies,  goes  far  to 
demonstrate  the  truth  that  there  is  an  aristocracy  of 
culture  and  good  breeding  which  comes  not  from  titles 
or  estates,  a  social  superiority  that  is  independent  of 
primogeniture  and  all  other  legal  devices  to  create  a 
privileged  class,  and  what  is  better  still,  that  it  is  an 
aristocracy  perfectly  in  harmony  with  democratic  in- 
stitutions, a  fact  that  neutralizes  all  our  fine  spun 


360 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 


theories  of  social  equality.  To  reach  this  circle  some- 
thing more  than  wealth  is  requisite,  and  one  needs  to 
penetrate  no  further  into  its  mysteries  than  those  which 
Broadway  furnishes  on  any  bright  day  of  the  year,  to 
prove  the  theory  true  in  every  particular.  How  un- 
mistakably too  does  this  great  Babel  of  a  street  ex- 
hibit the  social  element  that  bases  its  elevation — a 
fancied  one  in  most  cases — upon  the  length  of  its  purse- 
strings.  Observe  how  defiantly  gilded  vulgarity  tosses 
its  head  as  it  rushes  through  Broadway.  How  gor- 
geous its  array,  how  splendid  its  equipage,  how  savage- 
ly conscious  that  its  once  threadbare  shoulders  are  now 
covered  with  velvet,  and  its  fat  fingers  with  jewels, 
the  only  real  ones  it  boasts. 

There  comes  my  lady  Disdain  in  her  coupe.  It  is  just 
large  enough  to  hold  her  comfortably,  and  the  splen- 
didly gotten  up  Jehu  that  guides  it  through  the  tan- 
gled mazes  of  the  showiest  avenue  in  the  world.  In 
place  of  the  well-bred  jog-trot  that  the  old  coach  which 
has  been  in  the  family  for  half  a  century  assumes,  my 
lady's  steeds  go  at  a  breakneck  pace,  as  though  in  pur- 
suit of  the  family  doctor  in  a  case  of  immergent  dis- 
tress. A  white  poodle  with  red  eyes,  and  a  bright  blue 
ribbon  around  its  throat,  disports  himself  upon  the  top 
of  the  carriage  panel,  or  lies  snugly  in  the  lap  of  his 
] n i stress.  We  will  not  stop  to  trace  the  family  cord 
too  far  for  fear,  as  Saxe  says,  that  we  may  find  it 
"  waxed  at  the  other  end,"  and  my  lady  cannot  afford 
now  to  recognize  that  extreme  of  her  earlier  condition. 
She  is  out  for  a  morning's  shopping,  but  she  is  gotten 
up  as  if  she  were  going  to  a  ball  or  the  opera.  Shod- 
dy has  good  clothes,  and  it  believes  they  were  made  to 
be  worn  on  all  occasions,  and  it  is  no  small  matter  to 
be  able  to  go  about  in  a  kind  of  perpetual  full  dress. 


A  Ride  Down  Broadway. 


361 


Her  carriage  halts  at  Stewart's,  and  after  sweeping 
with  flowing  train  a  large  space  of  sidewalk  in  front 
of  that  famous  magazine  of  all  things  under  the  sun, 
enters  it.  But  she  will  not  be  lost  in  the  crowd  as  she 
flaunts  from  room  to  room.  All  eyes  will  be  upon  her, 
for  she  stands  the  type  of  a  class  that  has  had  what 
we  call  success,  and  to  which  in  these  later  years  we 
have  bowed  down  with  a  subserviency  born  of  the 
belief  that  there  is  nothing  valuable  on  earth  but 
money. 

After  all,  this  represents  but  a  single  phase  of  our 
varied,  energetic,  go-ahead  life.  That  these  coarse, 
vulgar  scions  of  the  money  god  sometimes  push  their 
way  to  recognition  from  people  of  culture,  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  under  a  system  where  the  green  grocer  of 
to-day  is  the  successful  banker  to-morrow,  with  a  pal- 
ace on  Fifth  Avenue. 

After  following  with  dazzled  eye  this  wonderful  ex- 
hibition of  jewels  and  laces,  who  would  suppose  that 
the  plainly,  but  neatly  dressed  woman  at  her  side, 
without  a  single  ornament  upon  her  person,  save  a 
certain  inimitable  grace  of  manner,  has  mingled  freely 
for  a  lifetime  in  the  best  court  circles  of  Europe.  She 
has  an  elegant  establishment  of  her  own,  but  she  does 
not  keep  it  for  an  everlasting  social  dress  parade. 
Shoddy,  not  quite  so  well  assured  of  its  place  in  the 
social  procession,  must  needs  show  itself  every  day  at 
its  very  best.  It  is  always  "  now  or  never  "  with  it, 
and  to  keep  itself  at  the  head  of  the  column,  a  pro- 
fuse amount  of  daily  whipping  and  spurring  is  re- 
quired. These  and  their  belongings  are  the  but- 
terflies of  Broadway,  and  with  their  apings  of 
English  aristocracy,  contribute  largely  to  enliven  it 
and  give  to  it  a  foreign  air.    Whatever  its  shortcom- 


362 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 


ings  in  good  breeding  and  culture,  the  Broadway  shop- 
keepers have  a  tender  appreciation  of  the  lavish  way 
in  which  it  scatters  its  wealth. 

Let  us  leave  these  fashionable  people  and  their  gay 
trappings  for  a  moment,  and  take  a  run  down  toward 
the  other  end  of  Broadway.  It  is  the  hour  of  noon, 
and  let  him  who  has  nothing  else  to  do  take  his  stand 
at  the  corner  of  Park  Row  and  Broadway,  or  on  the 
steps  of  the  Astor  House.  What  a  jam  !  Stages,  car- 
riages, cartmen,  expressmen,  pedestrians,  all  melted 
together  in  one  agglomerate  mass.  Some  wag  has  said 
that  to  cross  Broadway  at  either  of  these  points,  or  at 
any  point  from  St.  Paul's  to  Trinity  Church,  between 
twelve  and  four  o'clock,  requires  the  same  skill  in  nav- 
igation as  is  requisite  to  get  across  the  Atlantic  with 
safety  in  a  clamboat.  Certain  it  is  that  at  this  time  of 
day,  lower  Broadway  resembles  the  ocean  in  the  midst 
of  a  storm.  The  surging  crowd,  the  pushing  and  el- 
bowing, the  impolite  ejaculations  of  those  who  bump 
against  each  other,  and  trample  down  old  and  new 
corn  crops  without  compunction  of  conscience  or  sen- 
sibilities, is  something  altogether  curious  and  instruc- 
4  tive  to  see,  instructive  as  showing  how  well,  after  all, 

down-trodden  humanity  can  stand  up,  or  try  to  stand 
np,  under  great  afflictions.  Add  to  all  this  the  curses 
of  the  stage  Jehu's,  the  Neptunes  in  the  sea  of  Broad- 
way, the  frantic  struggles  of  the  cartmen,  those  mod- 
ern models  of  politeness,  who  "  run  you  down  "  as  if 
you  were  a  stag  at  bay,  and  after  reducing  you  to  the 
pavement  level,  thank  heaven  inwardly  that  there  is 
one  creeping  or  walking  thing  less  to  run  over,  and  so  go 
on  their  way  rejoicing.  If  you  are  picked  up  insensi- 
ble, so  much  the  better,  for  you  will  never  be  likely  to 
trouble  this  king  of  the  pave  again. 


A  Hide  Down  Broadway. 


363 


To  a  stranger,  the  most  incomprehensible  of  pedes- 
tric  feats,  is  that,  which  in  a  twinkling  carries  a  New 
Yorker  at  a  single  bound  from  curb  to  curb  of  this 
human  labyrinth.  Picture  him  in  front  of  the  Astor 
at  a  quarter  before  three,  on  his  way  to  a  Nassau  street 
bank.  There  is  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  the  turbulent 
Rubicon  before  him  is  to  be  crossed  before  the  bank 
turns  its  keys  for  the  day.  A  moment's  pause,  and  he 
plunges  into  the  very  midst  of  this  Babel  of  bawling 
cartmen  and  stage  Jehus.  With  what  dexterous, 
sinuous  grace  he  makes  his  way  to  the  other  side,  stop- 
ping just  long  enough  on  his  arrival  to  see  that  his 
"patent  leathers,"  despite  the  mud  that  sticks  peren- 
nial on  Broadway  from  Chamber  street  to  Wall,  have 
not  gathered  a  speck  of  it  to  themselves  in  passing. 
In  making  the  next  few  blocks  he  will  meet  ten  thou- 
sand men  like  himself  making  the  business  "  home 
stretch,"  but  not  one  of  them  will  be  touched  in  all 
this  mad  gallop.  Even  in  Nassau  street,  which  is  no- 
thing but  a  walled-up  "  cow-path,"  he  will  experience 
no  unpleasant  contact.  Apropos  of  this  thoroughfare, 
it  is  doubtful  if  there  exists  in  all  the  world  a  street 
that  demonstrates,  during  every  hour  of  the  day  from 
daylight  to  dawn,  so  many  problems  of  skillful  loco- 
motion as  this. 

But  we  are  in  Broadway  again,  and  Rusticus,  who 
has  "  done  up  "  its  upper  portion,  has  managed  to  get 
down  to  the  front  of  St.  Paul's,  at  which  point  he  too 
determines  to  cross  to  the  other  side  of  the  Broadway 
Jordan.  Retiring  for  a  moment  from  the  crowd  on 
the  side-walk,  he  rests  his  spinal  column  against  the 
iron  railing  of  the  old  church,  in  the  hope  that  an  ad- 
ditional bit  of  backbone  for  the  contemplated  enter- 
prise will  be  the  result.    The  experiment  produces  a 


364 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 


precisely  opposite  effect,  as  after  watching  the  waves 
for  a  time  his  courage  oozes  out  entirely.  Neverthe- 
less something  must  be  done,  and  at  the  moment  of  his 
most  extreme  hesitation  a  circumstance  occurs  that 
gives  him  new  courage.  A  policeman  is  just  about  to 
wade  across  Broadway,  accompanied  on  either  side  by 
a  lady.  Seizing  the  favorable  moment,  the  trio  em- 
bark for  the  other  side,  and  without  deviating  an  inch 
from  the  straight  line  to  the  opposite  curb,  reach  the 
latter,  though  not  without  a  free  use  of  the  butt  end 
of  a  whip  upon  the  noses  of  the  stage  horses.  Rusticus 
stands  amazed  at  a  thing  so  neatly  done,  and  plucks  up 
a  new  spirit  within  him,  though  his  success  will  not  prove 
commensurate  with  his  courage.  Under  its  influence, 
however,  he  sets  out,  determined  to  cross  over  or  bury 
himself  forever  in  the  crowd.  He  has  scarcely  struck 
out  when  he  sees  the  end  of  the  pole  of  an  express 
wagon  within  a  few  inches  of  his  right  ear.  Looking 
up  the  street,  he  finds  the  extremity  of  a  stage  pole  in 
fearful  proximity  with  the  left.  "With  a  bound  he 
escapes  this  danger,  but  encounters  at  the  next  step 
two  hacks  coming  from  opposite  directions,  with  just 
space  enough  to  slide  between  them  ;  but  just  at  this 
supreme  moment  a  cartman  approaches  from  below, 
and  taking  to  his  heels  he  strikes  a  bee  line  up  the 
street.  Now  comes  the  tug  of  war.  The  question 
uppermost  in  his  now  illogical  brain  is,  not  how  he 
shall  get  across,  that  hope  has  died  out  altogether,  but 
how  shall  he  get  back  again  to  first  principles  at  St. 
Paul's  ?  Breathless  with  excitement,  he  starts  out  on 
a  fresh  rim  over  the  "  hard  soap  "  of  lower  Broadway, 
his  feet  slipping  under  him  at  every  step.  He  has 
never  been  in  so  tight  a  place  before,  but  he  resolves 
inwardly  that  if  he  can  only  touch  bottom  once  more 


A  Icicle  Down  Broadway, 


305 


on  the  side  walk,  he  will  stay  on  the  west  side  for  all 
time.  By  this  time  he  has  reached  a  point  opposite 
the  Astor,  when  a  fresh  inspiration  seizes  him.  There 
is  a  lull  just  here,  and  the  curve  that  winds  around  the 
south  end  of  the  new  post-office  wooes  him.  To  reach 
it  is  but  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  help  comes  from 
an  unexpected  quarter.  A  gamin,  with  a  bundle  of 
papers  under  his  arm,  who  has  watched  the  progress 
of  Rusticus  with  a  keen  relish  of  the  humor  of  the 
situation,  rushes  up  to  him  and  pilots  him  over  the 
street,  landing  him  securely  in  front  of  the  Herald 
building.  Young  impertinence  hands  him  a  copy  of 
the  Commercial,  and  pocketing  his  fee,  our  country 
adventurer  takes  himself  down  Broadway,  secretly 
wondering  how  he  is  ever  to  get  back  on  the  other 
side,  a  problem  we  leave  him  to  work  out  for  himself. 

If  one's  ubiquity  permitted  him  to  stand  at  the  same 
moment  of  a  morning  at  the  Fulton,  Wall  street,  the 
Staten  Island  and  the  New  Jersey  ferries,  he  would  be 
able  to  see  how  it  is  that  lower  Broadway,  for  so  large 
a  portion  of  the  day,  is  little  better  than  a  bedlam. 
Overcrowded  though  it  be,  it  is  the  pride  of  the 
habitue,  and  a  marvel  to  the  stranger.  To  the  New 
Yorker,  the  daily  promenade  on  it  is  a  delight  that  in- 
creases with  each  return  of  it.  Seizing  his  cane  after 
a  hasty  toilet  and  a  hard  day's  work,  he  floats  away 
upon  its  afternoon  tide  upward,  and  is  soon  pleasantly 
oblivious  to  all  the  world  beside.  What  a  grand 
crowd  it  is,  to  be  sure,  that  sweeps  from  Canal  to 
Fourteenth  street,  from  four  to  six  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon of  any  bright  day  of  the  year!  What  infinite 
grace  !  (Xew  Yorkers  are  the  most  superb  walkers  in 
the  world) — what  a  kaleidescope  of  costumes,  and 
what  wonderful  complexions !    Of  dress,  there  is  no 


3GG  A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 

mode  known  on  earth,  save  that  of  the  Minlopica  de- 
scribed by  Prof.  Owen,  which  is,  after  all,  no  dress  at 
all,  birt  pudendal  nakedness,  that  has  not  its  counter- 
part in  Broadway  of  an  afternoon.  From  the  flowing 
trousers  of  the  Turk,  to  a  "  full  dress"  suit  of  black, 
all  are  here  blended  in  one  agglomerate,  picturesque, 
moving  mass.  What  more  soothing  to  the  rasped 
nerves  of  the  over-worked  Gothamite,  than  the  upward 
flow  of  Broadway  on  a  bright,  crispy  day,  at  any  sea- 
son of  the  year  ! 

Historically,  and  in  the  way  of  antiquities,  Broad- 
way, it  must  be  admitted,  has  little  to  boast.  It  is 
essentially,  and  in  all  respects,  a  modern  street,  a 
thoroughfare  that  will  never  be  finished,  speaking  from 
the  architect's  stand  point,  until  every  available  foot  of 
it  is  covered  on  both  its  sides  with  substantial  build- 
ings. It  is  not  rich,  even  in  traditions,  and  it  has  but 
few  landmarks  running  back  into  the  last  century,  yet 
judging  from  its  past,  it  will  be  finished  before  its 
now  handsome  facades  will  show  the  mould  or  moss 
of  Time's  withering  touch.  To  the  traveler  it  stands 
the  street  emblem  of  modern  civilization  and  progress ; 
to  Americans,  it  represents  the  onward  march  of  a 
hundred  years,  years  that  have  no  parallel  in  the  his- 
tory of  any  other  nation  in  the  world.  Architectu- 
rally, it  is  not  merely  the  past  reproduced,  but  the 
present  epitomized,  for  though  imitating  in  some  re- 
spects the  grander  styles  of  the  old  world,  architectural 
ideas  peculiarly  and  essentially  American,  have  in  it, 
crystalized  into  styles  at  once  unique  and  original. 
But,  young  as  it  is  in  years,  Broadway  is  the  pride  of 
the  nation  as  a  business  thoroughfare,  and  to  the  older 
of  our  citizens,  who  remember  its  earlier  features,  it  is 
at  once  a  marvel,  and  a  history,  every  page  of  which 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway.  3G7 


bears  upon  its  face  an  illustration  of  some  phase  of 
their  own  lives.  Nor  is  it  altogether  devoid  of  his- 
torical interest. 

The  old  Kennedy  House,  at  No.  1  Broadway,  was 
sixteen  years  old  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  of  the 
Revolution,  and  has  a  military  and  a  diplomatic  his- 
tory as  the  residence  at  different  times  of  "Washington 
and  other  heroes,  and  also  of  Talleyrand  the  French 
savant  and  diplomatist,  and  is  famous  also  for  being 
the  place  where  Arnold  first  plotted  treason. 

"Washington  was  first  inaugurated  President  in  what 
was  then  the  old  Government  House,  afterwards  re- 
placed by  the  block  at  the  south  end  of  Bowling 
Green.  This  latter  inclosure  in  its  present  shape  dates 
back  to  1732.  To  look  at  it  now,  a  little  green  patch 
not  much  bigger  than  a  lap  robe,  one  would  scarcely 
suspect  that  it  has  a  history  running  back  more  than 
two  hundred  years  ;  yet  so  it  is.  It  may  be  set  down, 
indeed,  as  the  starting  point  from  which  American 
civilization  took  up  the  line  of  its  march  to  the  Gulf, 
the  great  Lakes  on  the  north,  and  the  Pacific.  It  was 
emphatically  the  first  point  covered  in  our  city's  his- 
tory, and  around  its  immediate  vicinity  the  now  popu- 
lous island  of  Manhattan  threw  out  its  first  commercial 
lines  which  to-day  run  parallel  with  those  of  countriss 
moss-grown  with  age  before  we,  as  a  people,  were 
born. 

As  I  stand,  pencil  in  hand,  on  this  golden  October 
day,  at  the  south-west  corner  of  this  historic  little  park, 
I  feel  myself  for  the  moment,  carried  back  to  the 
period  that  witnessed  the  landing  of  Hudson  at  a  point 
within  sight  more  than  two  centuries  ago.  Failing  to 
find  the  passage  to  India  by  way  of  a  north-east  pas- 
sage, he  entered  the  bay  that  my  eye  covers,  in  1000. 


308 


A  Ride  Down  Broadway. 


The  beautiful,  and  now  cultivated  Long  Island  shore, 
with  the  country  back  of  it,  was  then  a  wilderness  in- 
habited by  savages,  many  of  whom,  joining  the  sav- 
ages of  Manhatta,  greeted  the  great  navigator  on  his 
arrival.  Staten  Island,  the  Neversink  Highlands,  New 
Jersey,  and  the  country  west  of  the  Palisades,  knew  at 
the  time  only  the  tread  of  the  moccasined  savage.  It 
is  a  little  unfortunate  for  a  history,  otherwise  so  bril- 
liant, that  its  beginning  took  its  rise  in  a  bacchanalian 
revel  indulged  by  the  Indians  and  Hudson's  sailors, 
the  latter  furnishing  the  first  "  fire  water "  that  ever 
arrived  at  the  port  of  New  York.  The  result  was  that 
these  red  gentlemen  got  gloriously  drunk  and  sold  the 
whole  island  to  the  pale  gentlemen  for  about  $24. 
We  mention  this  fact  to  demonstrate  the  native 
shrewdness  of  the  Yankee  character,  as  distinguished 
from  that  of  his  stupid  red  brother,  and  to  show  as 
well  that  rings  and  corruptionists  commenced  when 
the  bullock's  hide,  which,  cut  into  thongs,  furnished 
the  measure  of  the  island,  to  the  astonished  and  out- 
witted, and  we  may  add,  though  with  no  intention  to 
slander  our  illustrious  ancestors,  handsomely  swindled 
owners  of  it.  But  we  pass  over  this  as  a  mere  pecca- 
dillo, characteristic  of  the  superior  white  race,  it  may 
be,  and  one  which  has  had  a  large  and  respectable  en- 
dorsement up  to  the  present  moment  of  our  history 
We  certainly  cannot  be  blamed  for  the  repetition  of  a 
trick  that  was  so  eminently  successful,  and  through 
which  we  were  enabled  to  not  only  set  up  on  our  own 
account  as  a  nation,  but  to  overtake  those  who  had 
set  up  long  before  us. 

But  I  must  turn  my  face  from  the  Bay  and  its  never 
fading,  ever-changing  beauties,  and  my  mind's  eye 
from  Hudson  and  the  Indians,  and  take  the  promised 


A  Bide  Down  Broadway. 


869 


run  up  Broadway  from  my  present  point  of  observation 
at  Bowling  Green.  Just  above,  and  until  1832,  stood 
the  old  Jay  House,  famous  in  its  latter  days  as  the 
residence  of  Aaron  Burr,  and  from  which,  during  the 
same  summer  in  which  it  was  demolished,  Burr  was 
removed  to  Port  Richmond,  where  he  died  the  follow 
ing  September.  Within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  old 
tree  that  now  stands  at  the  north  point  of  the  Green, 
the  soil  which  still  nourishes  the  roots  of  which,  was 
covered  by  the  first  fort  erected  in  the  country,  were 
thrown  up  the  first  rude  huts  that  formed  the  nucleus 
of  Broadway.  What  a  change  meets  the  eye  in  its 
sweep  of  to-day  along  this  now  famous  trading  thor- 
oughfare and  promenade !  What  was  once  an  orchard, 
and  afterwards  an  open  common,  is  now  covered  by  the 
Mutual  Life  Insurance  Co.'s  building  and  that  of  the 
Equitable  Life  Insurance  Co.  The  latter  one  of  the 
most  costly  and  imposing  buildings  on  lower  Broad- 
way, erected,  wTe  may  add,  at  the  expense  of  an  army 
of  policy  holders,  who  placed  their  lives  and  a  goodly 
portion  of  their  purses  into  the  hands  of  this  most 
thrifty  corporation,  established  for  the  sole  benefit  of 
the  widow  and-  orphan,  and  we  suggest  the  query,  en 
passant,  if  it  is  not  time  that  some  of  these  rich  corpo- 
rations, living  in  quarters  so  luxuriant,  should  move 
into  plainer  business  places  and  divide  the  difference 
in  cost  with  their  patrons  ?  What  a  pride  the  insured 
must  take  in  palaces  of  such  magnificent  propor- 
tions ! 

Under  the  rule  of  the  good  Peter  Stuyvesant,  who 
died  in  1682,  the  city  scarcely  reached  this  limit,  and 
up  to  1656  had  not  gathered  to  itself  one  thousand  in- 
habitants. Dutch  thrift,  however,  backed  up  by 
plenty  of  good  sauer-krout,  sausage,  and  cheese,  did 


370  A  Bide  ZFp  Broadway, 


the  business,  so  that  in  1674,  when  the  English  got 
final  possession  of  it,  Broadway  had  made  an  ambi- 
tious start  northward,  though  we  doubt  if  the  most 
enterprising  of  the  good  Peter's  subjeets  ever  dreamed 
that  it  would  reach  its  present  show  of  wealth  and  ex- 
tent. Passing  scores  of  buildings  that  must  be  name- 
is  & 

less,  we  come  to  Trinity  Church,  the  building  which 
resembles  most  nearly,  though  still  but  faintly,  the 
cathedrals  of  Europe,  and  the  richest  of  our  ecclesias- 
tical corporations,  a  good  living,  in  short,  for  some 
curate  a  little  more  ambitious  than  Goldsmith's  u  Yicar 
of  Wakefield."  Architecturally  it  is  a  grand  pile,  and 
may  be  viewed  as  the  corner-stone  of  Broadway.  Its 
grave-yard  is  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  country,  the  first 
interment  made  in  it  dating  back  to  1682.  Let  us 
enter  for  a  moment's  rest,  this  quiet  retreat,  this  silent 
oasis  in  the  ever  shifting  desert  of  Broadway,  a  place 
sacred  to  the  memory,  and  the  ashes  of  a  portion  of 
the  first  generations  of  Nieuw  Amsterdam.  The  po- 
lite sexton  gives  us  carte  blanche  to  go  where  we  list, 
and  having  a  liking  for  old,  quaint  things,  and  out-of- 
the  way  places,  we  give  ourselves  up  to  a  half  hour's 
ramble  amid  its  peaceful  shades.  Speaking  after  the 
manner  of  the  statistician,  rather  than  that  of  the  anti- 
quarian, we  find  that  Richard  Churcher,  aged  five 
years,  was  the  first  to  dedicate  with  his  dust  the  sacred 
inclosure,  and  as  if  in  remembrance  of  go  marked  an 
event  in  the  history  of  Trinity,  a  gladiolus  lifts  its 
crimson  and  orange  petals  above  the  old  brown  stone 
that  marks  the  place  of  the  first  burial. 

Passing  from  this  boy  grave,  we  stumbled  upon 
another,  far  more  pretentious,  though  the  name  in- 
scribed on  the  slab  that  covers  it  is  by  no  means  an 
unfamiliar  one  to  German  or  English  ears.    It  is  that 


A  Rile  Up  Broadway, 


371 


of  John  Smith,  and  on  looking  at  the  (late  of  Mr. 
Smith's  departure,  and  the  quaint  lines  that  celebrate 
the  event,  we  could  not  but  conclude  that  though  not  in 
pursuit  of  the  last  resting-place  of  this  illustrious  histori- 
cal personage,  we  had  by  accident,  as  it  were,  aided  by  a 
pure  love  of  the  antiquated,  discovered  the  end  if  not 
the  beginning  of  the  original  John  of  the  Smith  fami- 
ly. It  will  be  a  source  of  infinite  gratification  to  the 
family  to  know,  that  its  earliest  scions  were  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  importance  of  mural  honors,  as  the 
following  lines  show,  that  still  grace,  though  dimly, 
the  stone  before  us  : 

"  Here  lyes  the  body  of 
John  Smith,  who  departed  this 
life  August  5th,  1764. 
How  loved,  how  valued,  Once 
Availed  the  Note.    By  whom 
Related  All,  By  whom  Begot. 
A  heap  of  dust  alone  remains 
Of  Thee,    This  all  thou  art, 
And  all  the  Proud  shall  be." 

Our  theory  as  to  this  "  John  "  being  the  paternat  an- 
cestor of  all  the  Smiths  speedily  fell  to  pieces,  for  on 
looking  a  little  further  we  found  that  he  died  at  the 
unripe  age  of  10  months. 

Trinity  grave-yard  boasts  a  full  share  of  the  graves 
of  our  heroic  dead,  the  most  ambitious  and  imposing 
of  which,  in  a  monumental  way,  being  that  which 
holds  the  remains  of  the  "  Sugar  House  Martyrs," 
those  early  heroes  of  the  Revolutionary  period, 

"  Who  died  while  imprisoned  in  this 
City  for  their  devotion  to  Independence." 

This  monument  forms  the  hallowed  centre  of  a  corner, 


372  A  Bide  Up  Broadway. 


in  which  repose  the  ashes  of  many  other  heroes  who 
gave  their  precious  lives  to  their  country  at  a  time 
when  patriotism  meant  something  more  than  that 
which  passes  current  for  it  in  these  degenerate  days. 

On  the  south  side,  near  Broadway,  stands  the  monu- 
ment of  Capt.  James  Lawrence,  the  hero  of  the  Chesa- 
peake, an  honored  name  in  our  history,  and  which  still 
has  a  sole  representative  in  the  gifted  grand-daughter 
that  survives  him.  His  widow,  a  gifted,  amiable,  and 
beautiful  woman,  died  at  "Newport  a  few  years  ago, 
beloved  and  admired  by  all  who  knew  her. 

A  few  steps  brings  me  to  the  grave  of  Alexander 
Hamilton,  a  name  high  among  the  highest  in  our  his- 
tory, as  statesman,  lawyer,  and  soldier,  and  worthy 
to  be  linked  with  the  greatest  of  the  statesmen  of  any 
land.  As  I  stand  before  the  simple  monument  that 
marks  the  resting  place  of  all  that  is  mortal  of  him 
who  was  once  the  idol  of  his  compatriots,  the  mourn- 
ful scene  that  ensued  at  his  burial,  when  all  New  York 
turned  out  to  honor  his  memory,  crowds  upon  my 
vision.  The  duel  at  "Weehawken,  almost  within  sight 
of  where  I  stand,  the  temporary  flight  of  Burr  from  an 
enraged  populace,  the  desolate  widow,  the  fatherless 
children,  the  nation  in  mourning,  and  the  long  caval- 
cade that  followed  him  to  this  honored  sepulchre,  has 
each  its  place  in  a  picture  never  to  be  forgotten  while 
heroism,  exalted  worth,  and  genius  hold  a  place  in  his- 
tory. Trinity  was  twice  burned,  the  present  structure 
being  completed  in  1846.  Its  chief  relic  is  an  elabor- 
ate chancel  service  presented  by  the  good  Queen  Anne, 
and  which  links  the  church's  history  with  that  of  her 
maternal  government. 

As  we  pass  through  the  iron  railing  that  shuts  it 
from  Broadway,  we  pause  instinctively  for  a  moment 


A  Bide  Up  Broadway. 


373 


to  contemplate  how  deeply,  and  vividly,  the  idea  of 
death  is  imbedded  into  the  simplest  minds,  the  simpler 
indeed,  the  more  vivid,  and  as  the  thought  expands 
itself,  we  see  how  it  is  that  some  of  the  rarest  gems  of 
the  literature  and  the  poetry  of  any  people  have  been 
suggested  by  the  crumbling  mausoleum,  or  the  un- 
marked grave.  "Who  can  read  Gray's  immortal  "  Ele- 
gy "  or  follow  in  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Old  Mortality  rum- 
maging among  the  graves  of  the  Covenanters,  without 
a  reverence  for  the  feeling  that  covers  our  existence 
here  with  so  much  that  is  grandly  mysterious  ? 

Washington  Irving,  the  sweetest  of  our  writers,  found 
special  delight  in  describing  country  church-yard  scenes, 
the  "  Widow's  Son  "  in  his  "  Sketch  Book  "  standing 
almost  alone  in  its  tender  melancholy  and  its  descrip- 
tions of  picturesque  beauty.  There  is  scarcely  a  poet 
of  note  that  has  not  touched  this  theme  with  a  tender 
or  heroic  hand,  sometimes  singing  the  warrior  to  rest  in 
notes  that  melt  the  heart  to  tenderness  while  they  fill 
the  soul  with  visions  of  martial  glory,  and  again  pour- 
ing out  in  accents  of  unspeakable  anguish,  his  simple 
story  at  some  obscure  and  long  neglected  grave. 

A  burial  place  like  that  of  Trinity,  however,  can 
never  inspire  the  interest  that  clings  to  the  suburban 
or  country  church-yard.  Curiosity,  rather  than  rev- 
erence, or  a  special  sensibility  to  mural  architecture, 
will  always  seek  some  place  beyond  the  tumult  of  a 
noisy  city  for  its  gratification.  We  are  impelled  never- 
theless to  confess,  that  this  brief  visit  to  the  sepulchres 
of  Trinity,  with  the  surges  of  the  great  city's  sea  beat- 
ing all  around  it,  proved  so  fascinating,  that  we  re- 
entered the  ever-sounding  Babel  of  Broadway  with 
regret. 

St.  Paul's,  too,  has  its  dead  heroes  and  its  quaint  in- 


374 


A  Ride  lJp  Broadway. 


scriptions,  but  we  leave  the  story  of  both  to  be  told  by 
less  busy  pens  than  our  own,  and  so  looking  across 
the  street  from  this  landmark  of  old  New  York,  the 
New  York  Herald  building  looms  up  to  view  on  the 
site  of  the  once  famous  Museum,  long  the  pet  of  its 
founder,  P.  T.  Earnum.  There  is  nothing  imposing  in 
the  white  marble  structure,  from  the  basement  of 
which  the  enterprising  Herald  is  belched  forth  upon 
an  unoffending  people  at  the  early  dawn  of  every 
morning  of  the  year,  yet  it  has,  after  all,  a  kind  of 
newspaper,  go-ahead  look  that  makes  it  an  attractive 
feature  of  this  portion  of  Broadway. 

It  is  at  a  point  just  beyond,  that  the  eye  of  the 
stranger  bids  him  halt,  and  take  in  that  costly  pile 
now  receiving  its  finishing  touches,  the  new  Post- 
Office.  The  site  is  certainly  a  most  striking  and  im- 
posing one,  commanding  as  it  does  the  entrance  to  City 
Hall  Park  from  the  south.  When  occupied,  as  it  very 
soon  will  be,  it  is  doubtful  if  the  people  of  any  city  in 
the  world  will  receive  their  mails  from  a  more  superb, 
as  they  certainly  will  not  from  a  more  expensive  build- 
ing. We  were  told,  as  to  the  latter,  at  starting,  that  it 
would  not  go  beyond  a  few  hundred  thousand  or  so,  but 
as  it  progressed,  and  changes  were  made  in  the  plans, 
in  one  case  owing  to  the  incompetence  or  stupidity  of 
the  architect  who  planned  it,  a  whole  story  being  added, 
it  was  found  that  the  cost  will  run  to  something  near 
$5,000,-000.  Barring  a  few  minor  defects  in  its  exterior 
plans  and  workmanship — we  have  not  seen  its  interior — 
it  will  not  be  surpassed  in  grandeur  by  any  building  in 
the  United  States.  A  few  more  buildings  like  the 
last,  let  us  add  will  drive  structures  of  this  and  the 
Equitable  Insurance  building  sort,  out  of  the  heads 
of  ns  Americans  for  a  few  years.    The  material  of  this 


A  Hide  Up  Broadway, 


375 


postal  palace  dedicated  to  the  New  York  mails,  is  of 
granite,  marble  and  iron,  the  first,  a  soft  grey  stone  of 
fine  texture,  soft  in  color,  and  exquisite  in  finish.  It 
is  three  stories  in  height,  surmounted  by  a  Mansard 
roof,  with  a  centre  pavilion  of  four  stories.  The  front 
pavilion  will  be  160  feet  high,  and  the  whole  front 
facing  the  City  Hall  320  feet  in  length.  It  is  built 
after  the  manner  of  the  French  Renaissance,  and  sim- 
ilar in  style  to  the  Tuileries  and  the  Hotel  de  A^ille  in 
Paris,  and  may  be  summed  up  as  the  most  ambitious 
structure  in  style,  cost  and  finish  of  any  business  build- 
ing in  the  country  outside  of  the  Capitol.  If  any  one 
doubts  this  statement  let  him  appeal  at  once  to  the 
first  tax-payer  he  meets  for  a  confirmation  of  its  truth, 
if  a  tax-payer  himself,  the  query  will  be  solved  before 
it  is  asked.  But  why  count  the  cost  of  a  building  that 
is  to  set  off  our  vanity  and  pride  beside  distributing 
the  mails?  Are  not  its  niches  to  be  filled  with  statues- 
que illustrations  of  Washington,  Commerce,  America, 
Franklin,  Justice,  Art,  Honor,  Yirtue,  etc.,  etc.  ?  Our 
only  consolation  in  this  marble  array  is,  that  Yirtue  is 
to  be  enthroned  at  the  helm,  while  Justice,  with  her 
eyes  unbandaged  (we  hope)  will  benignantly  descend 
from  her  old  judicial  heights  to  see  that  our  mails  are 
properly  cared  for.  Clocks  too,  we  are  informed,  are  to 
be  placed  at  various  points  in  the  outer  walls  for  the 
accommodation  of  such  impecunious  ]S"e\v  Yorkers'  as 
cannot  afford  the  luxury  of  a  chronometer.  The  cost 
of  these  has  not  yet  been  estimated,  but  the  bills  will 
make  their  appearance,  it  is  supposed,  in  due  time, 
and  the  people,  contrary  to  their  usual  custom,  will 
for  once,  indulge  the  luxury  of  a  growl. 

Opposite  to  this  immense  pile,  stands  the  old  Astor 
House,  in  its  day,  the  prince  of  hostelries,  and  now, 


370 


A  Hide  Uj?  Broadway. 


though  alone  as  a  far-down-town  first  class  hotel,  the 
best  place  in  New  York  to  get  a  plain,  deliciously- 
cooked,  early  breakfast.  The  restaurant  in  its  lower 
story  ranks  with  those  of  Delmonico,  and  is  a  famous 
resort  for  down-town  business  men  for  luncheon,  plea- 
sant talk  and  for  "  smiles."  Time,  and  the  ever-shift- 
ing centre  of  the  City's  gravitation,  has  robbed  the 
Astor  of  much  of  its  old-time  patronage,  and  soon  it 
will  succumb  altogether  to  the  irrepressible  tread  of 
business. 

Next  in  importance  as  a  building  is  the  old  City 
Hall,  in  the  centre  of  City  Hall  Square,  but  sufficient- 
ly near  Broadway  to  be  considered  a  portion  of  it,  and 
which  to-day,  despite  its  elegant,  architectural  sur- 
roundings, shows  well  as  a  handsome  building  of  the 
olden  time,  a  link  between  the  city's  past  and  present. 
It  is  nearly  three-quarters  of  a  century  old,  and  built 
mostly  of  white  marble.  To  the  old  New  Yorker  it  is 
a  landmark,  and  every  foot  of  soil  in  the  park  around 
it  is  classic  ground.  An  odd  circumstance,  illustrating 
the  prevailing  opinion  of  the  people  at  the  time  as 
to  the  future  of  the  city's  growth,  is  its  north  side 
of  brown  stone,  that  material  being  used  under  the 
supposition  that  its  northward  limit  would  never 
extend  beyond  it.  The  circumstance  exhibits  as  well 
the  difference  in  thrift  and  economy  between  the  peo- 
ple of  that  day  and  this.  If  a  point  below  this  was 
fixed  upon  as  the  future  centre  of  the  city  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  century,  what  would  the  old 
New  Yorker  of  that  period  think  could  he  come  back 
to  earth  now  and  find  it  moved  northward  five  miles 
or  more,  extending  its  limits  even  beyond  the  Harlem  ? 

The  present  building  gathers  up  in  its  history  a  long 
train  of  events  political,  military  and  civil  which  will 


A  Hide  TJj)  Broadway. 


377 


render  it  memorable  for  all  time,  traditions  that  will 
cling  to  it  through  many  coming  generations.  From 
its  warm  portico,  always  open  to  the  southern  sun,  how 
many  grand  reviews  have  been  witnessed,  how  many 
orations  spouted,  what  displays  of  bunting  and  fire- 
works, what  ringing  huzzas  from  a  once  really  patriotic 
people,  ardently  in  love  with  their  government  and 
country  ?  From  these  steps  on  which  our  feet  rest  at 
this  moment,  how  many  aspiring  politicians,  ripening 
into  fancied  aldermanic  proportions,  nourished  by  im- 
aginary bowls  of  turtle  soup,  have  lifted  up  their  husky 
voices  to  the  open-mouthed  crowd  on  the  pavement 
below  ?  How  often  has  this  very  pavement,  and  the 
beaten  paths  that  lead  to  it,  echoed  to  the  tread  of  the 
citizen  soldiery  as  they  gathered  for  review,  or  to  listen 
to  the  sublime  oratorical  pyrotechnics  of  some  spread- 
eagle  Fourth  of  July  disturber  of  the  peace  ?  Within 
its  once  ample  halls,  where  the  "  Fathers"  of  the  City 
were  wont  to  assemble  to  legislate  themselves  in,  and 
somebody  else,  out  of  office,  and  to  draw  their  pay, 
how  many  toasts  have  been  drunk  "  standing,"  "  in 
silence,"  and  at  last  "  sitting,"  when  the  toasters  could 
no  longer  bear  their  blushing  honors  on  their  un- 
certain legs  ? 

What  scenes  have  been  enacted  outside  these  walls, 
not  always  peaceful  ones  either,  but  now  and  then, 
stormy,  tumultuous,  and  passionately  violent  in  their 
character  !  Around  this  old  pile  the  war  riots  occur- 
red, when  from  ten  thousand  brazen  throats  wore 
echoed  the  notes  of  a  northern  rebellion  so  fiercely, 
that  even  the  gentle,  persuasive  tones  of  the  silver- 
tongued  Seymour  were  insufficient  to  hush  them  into 
silence.  Along  the  east  side  of  this  building,  the  good 
Horace  Greeley  lied  to  a  neighboring  restaurant  to 


378 


A  Hide  Up  Broadway. 


escape  death  at  the  hands  of  an  infuriated  mob.  The 
old  building  too  has  had  its  vicissitudes.  At  the  cele- 
bration of  the  laving  of  the  Atlantic  Cable,  its  head 
got  dizzy  with  a  tumult  of  dispatches  over  the  new 
line,  and  these  added  to  the  shouts  of  the  populace, 
and  the  fire  works  that  were  set  off  in  honor  of  the 
event,  upset  it  altogether  and  it  lost  its  top  by  fire. 
A  new  crown  was  speedily  placed  upon  it,  and  it 
stands  out  good  as  new,  the  most  creditable  of  all  the 
architectural  remnants  of  the  city  as  it  was  half  a  cen- 
tury ago. 

As  a  rendezvous  on  fete  days  to  come,  however,  it 
has  had  its  day,  and  will  be  known  as  such  no  more 
forever.  Commerce  has  sent  the  current  of  population 
so  far  northward,  that  a  few  years  only  will  elapse  be- 
fore the  whole  park  -will  be  given  over  to  business,  but 
we  hope  the  old  Hall,  and  the  old  inclosure  in  which 
it  stands  will  remain  intact  until  the  dying  murmurs 
of  discord,  and  faction,  are  lost  in  the  glad  sounds  of 
benediction  and  fraternal  love.  When  it  bows  its  head 
finally  before  the  irrepressible  tread  of  the  god  of  all 
Americans,  enterprise,  something  should  be  left  to 
mark  the  spot  that  was  for  many  years  the  city's 
northern  outpost. 

The  New  Court  House  at  the  north  end  of  City  Hall 
Square,  is  one  of  those  structures  of  which  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  speak  with  patience.  To  talk  of  an  unfinished 
building  is  to  dismiss  it  with  the  word  "  unfinished," 
but  this  abortion  cannot  be  let  off  so  easily.  It  was 
commenced — well  we  have  forgotten  in  just  what  year 
— a  long  time  ago,  that  it  will  ever  be  completed  is  a 
problem  as  incapable  of  solution  as  the  riddle  of  the 
Sphynx,  or  that  of  a  free  translation  of  the  hyerogly- 
pliics,  but  from  the  time  the  first  brick  was  laid  until 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


379 


the  present  moment,  it  would  be  impossible  to  say  how 
many  people  have  been  enriched  from  the  millions  ap- 
propriated for  its  construction.  Such  a  scheme  of  whole- 
sale plunder  was  probably  never  before  witnessed  in  tho 
construction  of  any  public  edifice.  It  will  be  absolute- 
ly fire-proof  when  finished,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  it  could  not  have  been  rendered  proof,  as  it  pro- 
gressed, against  the  official  cormorants  and  rings  that 
have  despoiled  it.  When  finished,  if  that  event  should 
ever  come  to  pass,  it  will  stand  for  all  time  a  monu- 
ment to  thievery  and  municipal  corruption.  Archi- 
tecturally, and  in  its  interior  arrangement,  it  is  said  to  be 
a  success,  and  when  completed  will  make  the  north 
side  of  the  old  square  as  imposing  as  the  south,  on 
which  the  Post  Office  lifts  its  magnificent  dome.  In 
its  fire-proof  niches  will  be  deposited  the  records  of  the 
County  Clerk,  Register,  Surrogate,  Sheriff,  Tax  De- 
partments and  Tax  Officers,  and  unless  a  better  set  of 
officials  preside  over  it  in  future  than  some  of  those 
who  have  occupied  it  in  the  past,  a  well-trained  body 
of  detectives  should  be  added  to  the  fire-proof  safes 
and  apartments,  to  keep  watch  of  the  records.  It  is  a 
comfort  to  know  that  the  court-rooms  in  it  are  large 
and  airy,  and  that  all  the  improvements  known  to  ac- 
coustics  have  been  brought  to  bear  upon  it,  so  that  the 
whispers  of  a  Judge  on  the  bench,  can  be  communi- 
cated to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  without  rupturing  his 
tympanum,  or  hurting  his  feelings. 

As  we  go  up  Broadway  from  this  point,  the  sounds 
of  old  New  York  will  grow  fainter  and  fainter  until 
lost  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  Westchester  hills.  Never- 
theless, one  cannot  go  without  a  feeling  that  the  New- 
York  of  to-day,  the  city  to  which  we  hasten,  not  on 
foot  any  more,  but  by  stage  and  rail,  is  an  improve- 


380  A  Bide  Up  Broadway. 


ment  upon  that  which  saw  the  Dutch  bonnes  of  less 
than  two  centuries  ago  in  their  snow-white  caps,  airing 
their  babies  at  the  "  Battery "  which  was  then  the 
Central  Park  of  Nieuw  Amsterdam. 

But  here  we  are  at  Stewart's  down-town  store  at  the 
south-east  corner  of  Chambers  street,  at  which  point  all 
that  is  classical  and  traditional  in  our  history  fades  out, 
and  the  reign  of  enterprise  begins.  Let  us  stop  for  a 
moment  to  realize  fully  what  is  before  us.  Our  own 
memory  runs  back  to  the  period  when  Chambers  street 
was  the  up-town  home  of  many  of  our  wealthiest  citi- 
zens, but  they  too  fled  before  that  fierce  spirit  of  trade, 
which  began  its  march  after  the  waters  of  the  Hudson 
had  been  wedded  to  those  of  Lake  Erie. 

Standing  here  to-day,  how  full  and  vivid  the  realiza- 
tion that  Broadway  is,  of  all  thoroughfares,  the  one 
that  is  typical  of  our  many-sided  civilization.  How 
slight  in  their  results  the  conquests  of  the  grandest 
armies,  compared  with  those  that  have  followed  in  the 
wake  of  commerce !  What  power  so  grandly  aggres- 
sive as  that  which  calls  into  existence,  as  by  magic,  a 
great  city  teeming  with  wealth  and  a  busy  population ! 
How  paltry  and  contemptible  the  trophies  of  war  com- 
pared with  such  a  triumph,  of  brick  and  mortar  as  that 
which  has  pushed  its  rapid  way  across  this  island  dur- 
ing the  last  half  century  !  How  pitilessly  the  genius 
of  trade  has  let  down  the  bars  of  each  suburban  field, 
until  each  yielded  in  its  turn  to  the  irresistible  new 
comer  !  How  many  thousand  protests,  from  as  many 
simple,  but  happy  homesteads,  have  met  the  hod-car- 
rier on  his  march  through  upper  Broadway  !  It  is  all 
over  now.  The  days  of  growling  and  grumbling  have 
passed,  and  the  bills,  well,  they  are  not  all  paid  yet, 
but  the  triumph  over  brute  force  is  none  the  less  sub- 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


381 


stantial  for  all  that.  But  will  Broadway  ever  be  fin- 
ished ?  asks  the  occasional  visitor,  as  each  new  pile 
deposits  in  advance  on  the  street,  the  brick  and  lumber 
to  be  used  in  its  creation.  What  if  we  do  seem  a  little 
pompous  in  our  architectural  and  other  street  belong- 
ings, that  is  but  a  natural  outgrowth  of  hurry  and  a  want 
of  taste,  and  that  nice  sense  of  fitness  of  means  to  ends 
found  in  older  and  more  cultivated  communities.  It  is 
something  to  have  shown  to  the  world  such  an  exhibi- 
tion of  energy  as  it  never  saw  before.  One  of  these  days 
when  we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  look  into  the  glass 
and  admire  ourselves — there  are  some  malicious  people 
who  think  the  present  a  good  time  to  begin — we  will 
commence  at  Wall  street  and  build  Broadway  over 
again,  and  spend  in  the  rebuilding  only  a  tithe  of  what 
has  been  thrown  away  in  past  extravagance. 

But,  as  I  said,  we  are  at  Stewart's,  and  what  a 
square,  solid,  substantial  looking  structure  it  is,  a  rare 
bit  of  business  architecture  without  any  of  its  fuss  or 
feathers.  Its  very  plainness,  not  an  ornament,  tawdry 
or  otherwise,  to  be  seen  anywhere  about  it,  tells  each 
customer  as  he  enters,  that  in  it  "  business  is  business," 
and  that  everything  moves  in  obedience  to  business 
laws  as  irrevocable,  as  were  the  enactments  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians.  What  need  of  doing  business  in 
a  palace  that  the  customer  must  pay  for  to  gratify  the 
vanity  of  the  millionaire  merchant  ?  Mr.  Stewart  has 
shown  his  sagacity,  and  his  proverbial  good  sense  in 
nothing  more  plainly,  than  in  the  happy  adaptation  of 
all  his  buildings  to  their  uses,  an  underlying  principle 
of  all  he  plans  and  executes,  and  which  is  one  of  the 
effective  elements  of  his  great  success. 

To  give  a  bare  idea  in  passing  of  the  value  of  Broad- 
way corner  lots,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  the  lot  on 


382  A  Bide  Up  Broadway. 


the  north-west  corner  of  Chambers  street  and  Broad- 
way, was  purchased  by  a  gentleman  who  died  about 
fifteen  years  ago  for  $1,000,  to-day  $150,000  would 
not  buy  it.  James  Gordon  Bennett  paid  Mr.  P.  T. 
Barnum  $100,000  for  an  unexpired  lease  of  thir- 
teen years  of  the  lot  on  which  stands  the  Herald 
building.  Sixty  feet  frontage  adjoining  this  on 
Broadway,  sold  recently  for  the  modest  sum  of 
$310,000.  The  sum  originally  paid  for  the  whole 
island  was  $24. 

We  are  now  at  Canal  street,  and  have  passed  on  our 
way  block  after  block  of  marble  buildings  that  have 
no  rivals  in  any  business  avenue  in  the  world.  We 
have  left  Wall  street  to  the  money-changers,  Fulton, 
the  city's  commercial  centre,  to  the  carmen  and  the 
ever-surging  crowd  of  that  more  than  crammed  local- 
ity, and  can  now  look  upward  on  Broadway  with  some 
faint  perception  that  at  last  we  are  freed  in  part,  at 
least,  from  the  stunning  Babel  below.  Just  above,  on 
the  corner  of  Grand  street,  is  the  marble  dry-good  pal- 
ace of  Messrs.  Lord  &  Taylor,  their  down-town  store 
in  which  their  wholesale  trade  is  conducted.  Should 
a  stranger  on  arriving  at  this  point  feel  the  need  of 
something  for  the  inner  man,  he  can  step  to  the  rear 
of  Lord  &  Taylor's  on  the  corner  of  Grand  and  Mercer. 
There  he  will  be  met  by  John  Ittner,  a  very  prince  of 
restaurateurs,  who  seats  daily  at  his  tables  many  of  the 
merchant  hon-vivants  of  the  city  who  dine  or  lunch  down 
town.  His  own  face  is  the  synonym  for  good  cheer,  and 
among  caterers  he  is  in  the  front  rank.  Apropos  of 
restaurants  and  cooking.  The  stranger  coming  to  New 
York  for  a  day,  if  he  be  a  well-bred  man,  and  accustom- 
ed to  good  living  at  home,  suffers  no  inconvenience  so 
great  as  that  which  compels  him  to  lunch  or  dine  at 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


383 


any  one  of  the  restaurants  on  this  portion  of  Broadway 
in  which  the  cooking  is  not  only  unsavory,  but  detest- 
able, and  hence  we  have  mentioned  Ittner's,  which  is  but 
a  step  out  of  Broadway,  for  his  sole  benefit. 

We  are  now  at  the  St.  Nicholas,  which  is  said  to 
have  the  best  arranged  kitchen  and  the  best  conducted, 
in  the  country,  a  culinary  honor  which  we  think  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  has  merited  for  years,  beyond  that 
of  any  hotel  on  this  continent.  This  is  high  praise,  but 
it  will  meet  a  ready  response  in  thousands  who  have 
tasted  for  themselves  the  delicious  breakfasts  served  at 
this  hotel. 

That  Byzantine  building  on  the  corner  of  Bond 
and  Broadway  is  Brooks  Bros,  clothing  emporium,  a 
very  gem  in  the  way  of  architecture.  A  little  below 
on  the  west  side  is  the  Appleton  book  and  publishing 
house,  a  superb  building  of  white  marble,  and  one  of 
the  old  and  reliable  book  houses  of  the  city. 

"We  have  passed  Niblo's  Theatre,  and  the  Metro- 
politan, a  hotel  of  varied  and  multitudinous  fortunes. 
After  the  Lelands  left  it  a  few  years  ago,  it  was  fur- 
nished by  William  M.  Tweed,  known  erewhile  as  the 
"  Boss,"  in  a  style  of  palatial  splendor  never  perhaps 
witnessed  before  in  any  hotel.  How  much  of  the  mo- 
ney that  paid  the  furniture  and  fresco  bills  came  from 
the  pockets  of  our  tax-payers,  has  never  been  ascer- 
tained, but  it  is  surmised,  and  with  good  reason,  that 
every  dollar  of  it  came  from  that  source.  When  Mi*. 
Tweed  changed  his  residence  from  Fifth  Avenue  to 
Kandall's  Island,  the  hotel  passed  into  other  hands, 
though  we  believe  he  still  retains  an  interest  in  it, 
which  is  managed  by  his  son  Eichard. 

The  Lelands,  known  the  world  over  as  popular  hotel 
keepers,  managed  it  for  years,  but  in  an  evil  hour 


384  A  Bide  Uj)  Broadway. 


Simeon,  who  had  charge  of  it  at  the  time,  passed 
through  a  series  of  financial  disasters,  it  is  said,  and  so 
the  Metropolitan  found  a  new  master.  Under  the  Le- 
lands  it  had  but  little  political  significance  as  a  hostel- 
rie,  but  latterly  it  has  been  coddled  by  the  Democratic 
leaders  as  their  head-quarters,  and  as  they  still  use  it 
for  the  same  purpose,  it  is  plain  that  the  "  Boss  "  re- 
mains a  power  in  the  ranks  of  his  old  following.  Its 
table,  its  servants,  its  parlor  and  its  chamber  suites  are 
unequalled  in  convenience  and  elegance,  and  it  was  for 
years,  under  its  former  proprietors,  emphatically  a  city 
winter  home  for  New  York  families.  Of  course  the 
onward  march  of  trade,  residence,  and  population,  has 
diminished  that  patronage  of  both  the  Metropolitan 
and  St.  Nicholas,  yet  each  keeps  its  place  as  a  hotel  of 
the  very  best  class.  As  in  all  things  else  which  relates 
to  extravagant  living,  we  have  set  the  world  an  ex- 
ample of  folly  and  wastefulness  in  our  hotel  life  that  is 
unworthy  of  imitation.  Why  should  those  who  live 
plainly  and  well  at  home,  be  driven  when  away  from 
it  to  take  refuge  in  a  hotel  at  $5  per  day  to  gratify  the 
extravagant  tastes  of  the  few  who  have  made  a  fortune 
in  a  day,  or  have  pushed  themselves  into  official  posi- 
tion, and  must  needs  make  their  low  origin  more  ap- 
parent by  flaunting  their  finery  and  other  belongings 
at  a  "  first  class  "  hotel  ?  While  the  American  idea  of 
a  hotel  is  to  have  it  as  expensive  and  showy  as  possi- 
ble, the  true  notion  of  a  home  away  from  home,  is  to 
have  every  home  and  homely  comfort  at  the  lowest 
rate.  If  we  go  on  at  our  present  rate  of  extravagance 
in  hotel  living,  the  highest  priced  ones  will  be  given 
up  for  the  most  part  to  rich  vulgarity.  To  the  really 
well  bred,  accustomed  in  their  homes  to  quiet  elegance 
in  the  way  of  surroundings,  the  costly  hangings,  superb 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


335 


mirrors,  and  general  luxuriousness  seen  at  the  Metro- 
politan for  example,  are  not  only  offensive  to  good 
taste,  but  ruinous  to  the  purse  of  moderate  dimensions. 
To  feel  how  absolutely  obsolete  has  become  the  old  no- 
tion of  an  Inn,  one  has  but  to  walk  through  magnificent- 
ly appointed  palaces  like  the  Fifth  Avenue,  the  Wind- 
sor, and  others  of  the  same  class  in  our  city.  The  old 
wayside  "  tavern,"  once  with  us  an  imitation  of  the 
English  Inn,  with  its  crackling  fire-place,  its  snow- 
white  linen,  and  plain,  palatable  fare,  surrendered  to 
the  genius  of  enterprise  as  it  swept  along  regardless  of 
the  past  or  its  traditions,  so  that  now  neither  "  Shod- 
dy," nor  "  Young  America "  can  be  satisfied  with 
anything  short  of  Oriental  splendor  when  it  goes  away 
for  a  month  or  a  week  on  business  or  pleasure,  and  so, 
with  a  sigh,  we  say  good  bye  to  the  good  cheer  of  the 
old  tavern,  and  give  ourselves  up  to  the  gassy  exhibi- 
tions of  over-heated  rooms,  and  the  modem  "  first- 
class  "  hotel. 

But  while  lounging  at  the  Metropolitan  and  St.  Ni- 
cholas, we  have  forgotten  to  move  on,  and  must  do  so 
now  at  a  rapid  pace  or  else  be  driven  to  take  another 
day  for  it,  and  that  is  more  than  we  can  give  in  these 
pages,  even  to  our  own  Broadway.  It  is  now  four 
o'clock  of  this  golden  September  day,  not  one  of  those 
sultry,  exhaustive  days  that  often  come  to  us  in  this 
fitful  climate  at  this  season  of  the  year,  but  a  day  send- 
ing out  as  feelers  its  first  crisp  suggestions  that  the 
Autumn  is  coming  along  with  healing  in  his  wings. 
Not  a  cloud  is  to  be  seen,  and  not  a  leaf  is  stirring. 
We  are  standing  at  Stewart's  up-town  store  on  the  cor- 
ner of  Tenth  street  and  Broadway.  As  we  look  down 
toward  Canal  street  we  take  in  with  one  sweep  of  the 
eye,  as  grand  a  human  panorama  as  can  be  seen  in  any 


3SG 


A  Hide  Up  Broadway. 


promenade  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  What  scene  can 
he  imagined  that  so  completely  represents  the  national 
mind  as  that  which  is  this  moment  passing  in  review 
before  me?  What,  compared  with  this,  was  the  Tour- 
nament, that  reflected  the  prowess,  as  well  as  all  that 
was  tender  and  gallant  in  love,  of  a  chivalric  age  ? 
Have  we  not  here,  gathered  within  the  scope  of  a  mile, 
the  very  flower  of  a  continent's  civilization  ?  What  a 
pageant  it  is  to  be  sure  !  One  would  suppose  that  old 
New  York  had  turned  out  to  celebrate  some  fete  day 
in  our  calendar,  and  yet  this  scene  reduplicates  itself 
on  every  pleasant  afternoon  of  the  year,  for  it  is  no- 
thing after  all  but  the  returning  tide  that  bears  to  ten 
thousand  splendid  homes  the  denizens  of  the  me- 
tropolis. 

But  I  forget,  and  to  escape  being  lost  in  this  most 
gorgeous  bit  of  pageantry,  and  being  swept  along  with 
it,  we  will  run  into  Stewart's  for  a  moment,  and  let  it 
pass.  What  a  bazar,  and  what  a  crowd  too  is  here  ! 
We  had  supposed  that  all  New  York  was  out  for  an 
airing.  Not  so.  Within  these  walls  a  thousand  per- 
sons are  at  this  moment  turning  over,  with  delicately 
gloved  fingers,  ten  thousand  articles  gathered  from 
every  corner  of  the  world.  What  a  dazzling  mass  of 
textures,  colors,  and  fabrics,  from  the  most  minute 
trinket,  to  the  shawl  or  bit  of  lace  that  will  cost  what 
to  the  poor  man  would  be  a  fortune,  all  brought  into 
startling  relief  by  such  a  concentration  of  sunlight  as 
was  never  seen  before  in  any  building  devoted  to 
trade.  Occupying  a  square  by  itself,  the  light  reaches 
its  remotest  corner,  showing  up  to  the  customer  the 
somberest  tint  in  its  very  best  light.  Just  think  of 
coming  down  from  this  height  of  dry  good  elevation, 
to  a  ten  cent  country  store,  and  yet,  alas,  what  would 


A  Bide  Up  Broadway.  387 

the  world  do  without  its  country  stores  with  their 
thread  and  needles,  their  green  groceries,  their  every- 
thing, in  short,  that  the  country  needs  ?  The  truth  is 
the  Stewarts,  and  Lord  &  Taylors,  and  the  Arnold  & 
Constables,  have  spoiled  us  b}T  tempting  our  "  wim- 
min  folks,"  as  our  good  country  cousins  say,  into  all 
sorts  of  extravagances  and  folly.  What  full-grown 
man  among  us  even,  but  will  spend  his  "  bottom  dol- 
lar" upon  his  first  day  of  shopping  with  mamma  and 
her  daughters  at  Stewart's  ?  But  we  are  lingering  too 
long  here,  and  must  travel  on  to  Fourteenth  street  and 
Union  Square,  halting  for  a  moment  at  Grace  Church, 
the  prettiest  bit  of  church  architecture  in  the  western 
world.  Built  of  white  marble,  and  florrid  in  stylo,  it 
presents  with  its  little  park  in  front,  its  rectory,  of  the 
same  style  and  material  as  the  parent  edifice,  a  sweet 
picture  of  undisturbed  repose,  in  the  very  heart  of  a 
great  city.  We  do  not  suppose  that  there  is  ever 
much  religious  excitement  within  its  sacred  walls,  save 
on  Easter  Day,  and  Christmas,  and  the  other  feasts 
and  fasts  peculiar  to  the  Church  of  England,  but  it 
seems  altogether  a  very  comfortable  place  to  renew 
week  by  week  one's  vows  to  lead  a  better  and  holier 
life. 

We  have  passed  Wallack's  Theatre,  and  are  now  at 
Union  Square,  the  brightest,  cheeriest  little  plaza,  in 
our  judgment,  that  the  country  boasts,  the  very  heart 
too  of  Manhattan  island,  from  which,  in  all  directions, 
the  crowd  that  has  just  swept  along  will  radiate  and 
continue  radiating  for  the  next  two  hours.  A  few 
years  ago  it  was  given  up  to  the  residences  of  some  of 
our  oldest  and  wealthiest  families,  to-day  it  is  occupied 
by  hotels,  private  habitations,  and  some  of  the  finest 
retail  shops  in  the  city.    Here  too,  trade,  the  great 


383 


A  Bide  17p  Broadway. 


leveler  of  all  distinctions,  has  been  busy,  nevertheless 
as  a  promenade  there  is  nothing  finer,  in  our  mind,  in 
New  York,  outside  of  Central  Park,  that  of  course  is 
to  be  for  all  time  the  New  Yorker's  paradise,  and  is 
hence,  incomparable.  Let  us  take  a  seat  in  a  bal- 
cony of  the  Spingler  House  on  the  Broadway  side,  just 
to  get  a  bird's-eye  look  at  this  superb  little  halting- 
place  for  the  tired  pedestrian.  Here  is  the  Lincoln 
statue  to  begin  with,  an  abortion  in  metal,  but  yet 
better  than  to  have  had  no  statuesque  presentment  of 
the  character,  which,  next  to  that  of  Washington,  had 
more  of  gentleness  and  native  grandeur  in  it  than  any 
other  in  our  history. 

That  elegant  and  imposing  pile  at  the  west  corner 
of  Broadway  and  Fourteenth  street  stands  on  the  site 
of  the  old  Roosevelt  mansion,  a  house  long  famous 
for  its  elegant  hospitality.  The  view  from  the  dome 
that  crowns  it  takes  in  its  range  every  prominent 
object  on  the  outer  circuit  of  the  island.  The  old 
Penniman  mansion,  just  west  of  it,  now  devoted  to 
trade,  was  equally  famous  in  its  day  for  its  more 
showy,  but  far  less  elegant  social  gatherings.  Alas, 
and  by  way  of  retrospect,  how  many  of  the  gay  crowds 
that  once  represented  the  two  distinct  phases  of  New 
York's  aristocracy,  money  and  family,  have  passed  to 
the  mansions  beyond,  where  social  distinctions,  and 
social  rivalries  have  no  place  !  It  must  be  admitted, 
however,  that  in  the  march  of  years  up  to  the  present, 
Mammon  has  held  its  own,  and  more  than  its  own. 
The  energy  that  could  push  its  way  to  wealth,  has 
pushed  its  way  as  well  into  the  charmed  circle  that  has 
always  made  birth,  however  threadbare,  the  measure 
of  its  superiority,  and  it  is  a  patent  fact  that  now, 
despite  the  ravages  that  time  and  superior  energy  have 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


made  in  its  ranks,  the  remaining  scions  of  the  old 
regime  that  held  the  social  reins  three-quarters  of  a 
century  ago,  still  hug  the  prejudice  that  makes  an  out- 
at-elbow  Schuyler  or  Livingston  of  more  social  conse- 
quence, than  Smith  or  Jones  in  diamonds,  with  an 
income  of  a  hundred  thousand  a  year. 

At  the  southeast  corner  of  the  square  stands  the 
equestrian  statue  of  "Washington,  another  atrocious 
outrage  on  horseback  upon  the  memory  of  the 
"  Father  of  his  country,"  and  one  over  which  all  New 
Yorkers  who  have  any  taste  for  art  have  shed  tears 
without  number.  To  call  such  an  embodiment' of  the 
heart's  yearning  for  the  perpetuation  in  bronze  of  the 
heroic  and  the  palpable,  would  be  to  libel  the  beautiful 
and  the  grand  in  marble  or  on  canvas.  The  Sphynx 
illustrates  and  immortalizes  the  Pyramids,  but  this 
statue  of  Washington  illustrates  nothing,  save  a  futile 
but  perpetual  effort  of  the  once  great  warrior  and 
statesman,  to  urge  his  Bucephalus  into  a  gallop. 

Let  us  move  on  round  the  square,  taking  in  the 
elegant  marble  building,  corner  of  Fourteenth  street 
and  Fourth  Avenue,  the  Clarendon,  a  thoroughly 
English  hotel,  with  English  servants,  English  cooking, 
and  English  manners,  and  as  comfortable  a  place  to 
stop  for  a  month  as  there  is  in  the  city.  The  Everett 
occupies  the  opposite  corner  of  the  square,  and  now  we 
are  back  into  Broadway  again  at  the  corner  of  Seven- 
teenth street.  From  this  point  to  Thirty-fourth  street, 
can  be  seen  a  succession  of  stores  and  hotels  that  tell 
at  once  the  story  of  our  grandeur  and  our  folly,  and 
which,  when  the  reaction  against  fast  living  that  man  v 
sensible  people  are  looking  for,  comes,  will  loom  up  as 
monuments  of  faded  splendor.  How  strange  it  would 
seem,  if  even  here  in*  the  metropolis,  we  should  some 


300 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


time  or  other  learn  that  ignorance  and  vulgarity, 
entrenched  in  marble  and  brown-stone  palaces,  serves 
only  to  bring  out  in  colors  more  vivid  and  prominent, 
these  disagreeable  qualities.  The  real  aristocracy  of 
any  nation,  is  that  which  springs  from  education,  and 
a  cultivated  mind,  heart,  and  manners. 

From  Seventeenth  street  to  Madison  Park  and 
Twenty-third  street  is  but  a  skip,  and  here  we  are. 
How  great  a  change  a  few  squares  has  wrought,  and 
which  is  a  notable  feature  in  any  contrast  of  the  two 
parks.  Hurry  is  the  pedestrian  order  at  the  lower 
park,  but  up  here  at  Madison,  with  its  elegant  sur- 
roundings, there  is  no  indecent  haste,  nothing  indeed 
that  would  breathe  the  slightest  suspicion  that  any- 
body in  this  easy-going  vicinage  can  have  any  possible 
reason  for  indulging  speedy  locomotion,  for  any  such 
exhibition  would  be  a  vulgar  one,  and  not  to  be 
endured  in  a  locality  sacred  to  Mammon  and  "  fast " 
Xew  York.  If  indeed  anybody  can  be  said  to  lounge 
in  this  ever  turbulent  and  restless  city,  here  is  the 
place  where  the  habit  is  indulged.  To-day  it  is  filled 
with  nurses  and  their  gaily-dressed  charges,  in  their 
tiny  carriages,  and  in  arms,  altogether  a  charming 
spectacle  of  well  bred  hilarity,  for  the  children  of  the 
"  best  families "  are  positively  allowed  to  romp  in  a 
superior  sort  of  way  in  Madison  Park.  Large  incomes 
are  the  rule  around  this  choice  in  closure,  and  so  are 
late  breakfasts.  The  milk-man,  or  chimney  operator, 
or  the  butcher-boy  that  should  dare  to  utter  his  shrill 
screech  in  this  locality,  would  be  spasmodically  jerked 
from  his  vulgar  vehicle  and  consigned  to  the  " Tombs." 
No  beggar  ever  profanes  this  quadrangle,  sacred  to 
exclusiveness.  Even  the  great  bell  in  the  steeple  of 
Dr.  Adams'  church  on  the  east  side,  proclaims  in 


A  Rile  Up  Broadway. 


391 


stirring  tones  the  Puritan  watchwords  of  election, 
predestination,  and  "  once-in-grace-always-in-grace." 
That  delicious  little  fountain,  scattering  its  spray 
through  the  golden  sunshine,  illustrates  in  its  upward 
flow,  that  self-satisfaction  here  sits  enthroned  without 
fear  of  intrusion.  On  the  west  side  of  the  square,  the 
Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  next  to  the  "  Windsor,"  the 
grandest  in  the  country,  sends  out  from  early  morn  to 
midnight  a  continuous  human  outpouring  of  hand- 
somely arrayed  men  and  women.  Art,  in  the  way  of 
statuary,  plays  no  important  part  here,  a  defect 
noticeable  throughout  the  city,  and  in  which,  owing  in 
part  to  our  youth,  and  our  want  of  taste,  our  own  is 
inferior  to  many  European  cities  of  half  our  population. 
Busy  as  we  are,  we  have  not  been  able  to  force  art 
beyond  the  level  that  our  own  want  of  art  education 
has  placed  it.  One  of  these  days,  we  shall  wipe  out 
much  that  is  tawdry  and  absurd  in  our  houses,  and 
replace  it  with  styles  more  modest  and  far  more  beauti- 
ful, and  the  same  improvement  will  come  to  our  parks 
and  squares. 

The  elegant  and  showy  building  on  the  southeast 
corner  of  the  park  is  the  Union  Square  Club  House, 
the  best  appointed  and  best  sustained  club  in  the  city. 
Political  and  exclusive  in  its  make-up,  it  absorbs  the 
best  elements  of  the  Republican  party,  and  is  the  most 
enjoyable  and  elegantly  free  and  easy  of  all  our  clubs. 
It  has  hotel  accommodations  for  a  few  transients,  has 
an  art  gallery,  and  a  snug  little  theatre  as  features 
of  its  belongings,  reading,  lunch  and  dining-rooms, 
and  all  that  is  requisite  to  till  the  bill  of  a  resort  that 
boasts  on  its  roll  of  membership  many  of  the  very  best 
men  of  our  city,  together  with — since  it  is  political — 
an  unavoidable  element  of  political  hangers-on.  The 


302 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway, 


latter  element  is  so  small,  that  it  is  kept  well  in  hand, 
and  not  being  over-sensitive  as  to  its  status  anywhere, 
except  when  feeding  at  the  public  crib,  permits  itself 
to  be  snubbed  with  that  utter  indifference  that  comes 
from  vile  habits  and  low  associations,  an  utter  want  of 
self-respect,  and  an  all-absorbing  passion  for  the  spoils 
of  office.  So  great  has  been  its  success,  however,  that 
the  Club  was  recently  reorganized,  with  a  capital  of  a 
million  and  a  quarter.  What  effect  a  change  of 
national  administration  would  have  upon  its  fortunes, 
6uch  change  when  it  comes  can  alone  determine,  but 
one  good  effect  would  be  lealized  in  a  sudden  falling- 
off  of  the  place  hunters,  and  which  would  be  deemed  a 
fortunate  circumstance  by  its  higher-toned  members. 

The  reader  will  pardon  these  little  episodes  and 
departures  from  the  otherwise  straight  line  of  our 
march  up  Broadway,  because  of  the  fact  that  the 
actual  belongings  of  Broadway  often  extend  to  the 
squares  and  parks  that  lead  to  it,  and  which  are  in 
fact  portions  of  it.  At  the  Worth  Monument,  in  front 
of  the  Hoffman  House,  Fifth  Avenue,  which  begins 
at  Washington  Square,  some  twenty  blocks  below, 
branches  off  northward.  On  it  dwells  that  portion  of 
"  fast "  New  York,  that  looks  down  with  self-satisfied 
contempt  upon  the  arrogant  assertion  of  superiority 
that  distinguishes  localities  sacred  to  hereditary  wealth 
and  the  irrepressible  family  silver.  In  the  houses  of 
the  latter,  "  plated  ware  "  is  never  found,  so  that  our 
good  friend,  the  "Hero  of  New  Orleans,"  should  he  by 
chance  be  invited  to  dine  with  any  of  these  old-time 
people,  would  find  an  ample  field  for  the  indulgence 
of  his  penchant  for  solid  spoons. 

We  have  now  reached  Thirty-fourth  street  on  our 
return  trip,  and  have  passed  on  our  way  up  from 


A  Ride  Up  Broadway. 


393 


Twenty-third  street,  a  series  of  splendid  family  and 
transient  hotels.  The  Hoffman  House,  with  its  cele- 
brated restaurant,  the  St.  James,  the  Coleman  House, 
the  Sturtevant,  the  Grand  Hotelj  with  others  of  lesser 
note,  but  all  showing  how  many  of  our  well-to-do 
people  live  in  hotels,  most  of  whom,  with  plenty  of 
leisure  and  money  as  an  inheritance,  are  mere  birds 
of  passage,  flitting  from  place  to  place  at  home  and  in 
Europe,  as  fancy  and  inclination  prompts,  a  don't-care, 
gipsy  sort  of  existence  to  those  who  live  for  excitement 
rather  than  for  the  more  substantial  pleasures  of  a  well- 
regulated  and  comfortable  home.  Living  exclusively 
for  themselves,  they  entertain  none  save  themselves^ 
and  are  shallow  and  insipid  enough  as  a  rule  to  enjoy 
heartily  the  insipid  entertainment. 

But  we  have  been  gossiping  again,  and  while  in- 
dulging so  ill-mannered  a  trait,  have  reached  Fifty- 
ninth  street,  the  southwest  entrance  to  Central  Park. 
What  need  of  going  further  ?  We  are  now  in  sight  of 
green  fields,  cultivated  gardens,  rude  huts,  and  jagged 
rocks,  but  still  Broadway  pushes  itself  remorselessly 
along,  until  it  crosses  the  Harlem  and  is  lost  among 
the  Westchester  hills.  To  follow  it  thither  from  this 
point  would  tire  both  ourselves  and  our  readers,  and 
we  commit  what  is  left  of  it  to  the  tender  hand  of  the 
antiquarian  of  the  next  century,  who  may  perhaps 
take  up  his  line  of  march,  at  the  point  from  which  our 
eye  at  this  moment  stretches  away  to  the  unfinished 
Broadway  that  lies  bevond. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  FEW  FACTS. 

The  animus  and  scope  of  the  foregoing  chapters  may 
be  best  suggested  by  a  brief  recapitulation  of  infer- 
ences that  follow  as  logical  sequences  the  facts  therein 
stated.  The  intelligent  reader  has  seen  that  there  has 
been  no  attempt  made  to  generalize  social  phenomena, 
but  to  furnish  the  facts  requisite  foi  such  generalization. 
With  politics  we  have  had  but  little  to  do  ;  that  with 
us,  boundless,  and  just  now,  sadly  demoralized  field,  we 
have  left  for  the  moralist  to  cultivate.  It  was  sufficient 
for  our  purpose,  to  know  that  true  social  growth,  and 
the  structures  that  arise  from  it,  can  be  best  under- 
stood by  gathering  in  a  mass  the  facts  that  go  to  make 
up  and  explain  the  results  arrived  at.  By  reciting 
these  facts  and  phenomena,  we  are  enabled  to  see  how 
closely  our  civilization,  or  that  which  passes  for  it,  is 
linked  to  the  barbarisms  of  a  ruder  age,  and  that  we 
have  but  just  entered  upon  a  field,  that  in  the  future 
will  be  cultivated  with  a  determination  to  get  at  new 
social  facts  and  statistics  never  before  dreamed  of  by 
the  most  devoted  enthusiast  in  social  science.  The 
problem  of  how  to  live  so  as  best  to  secure  to  the  sub- 
ject the  largest  amount  of  rational  living,  by  a  proper 
distribution  of  the  good  things  of  the  earth  to  all 
classes,  is  by  no  means  one  of  easy  solution.  The 
economic  questions  alone,  that  stand  closely  related  to 
these,  and  which  include  in  their  range,  taxation,  cost 
and  quality  of  food,  wages,  co-operative  science,  and 


A  Few  Fact*. 


395 


the  means  of  transportation,  are  all  questions  of  \ital 
importance. 

Speaking  from  the  standpoint  of  municipal  life, 
every  man  of  intelligence,  bred  in  a  large  city,  knows 
full  well  that  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  in  all  direct- 
ions, induced  by  the  friction  from  close  contact,  render 
the  considerations  of  health,  habitation,  ventilation, 
rents  and  mode  of  living,  of  prime  importance  to  the 
man  of  small  means.  Add  to  this,  the  proper  classi- 
fication of  the  poor,  a  thing  as  yet  unattempted  in  any 
systematic  way  on  a  large  scale,  the  care  of  these,  to- 
gether with  efforts  looking  to  the  same  results  in  the 
care  and  punishment  of  criminals  of  all  degrees,  and 
we  certainly,  as  a  new  country,  have  much  to  accom- 
plish. Indeed  it  can  scarcely  be  said  that  we  have 
made  a  beginning  in  any  of  these  needs  that  appeal  to 
us  just  now  so  strongly  for  adjustment. 

Fortunately  for  those  wTho  are  to  take  our  places,  we 
have  left  behind  us  that  period,  the  history  of  which 
was  confined  chiefly  to  depicting  the  lives  of  worth- 
less rulers  who  fancied  them  the  only  ones  worth  record- 
ing. To-day,  kings  and  their  satelites  are  passing  out 
of  sight  into  a  sort  of  figure-head  seclusion,  while  the 
people  are  crowding  to  the  front,  clamorous  for  such  a 
share  of  God's  gifts  as  their  hands  can  produce  under 
the  stimulus  of  good  laws  and  a  mode  of  government 
that  will  know  no  distinction  between  the  cottager  and 
the  millionaire  in  the  equal  distribution  of  its  gifts. 
There  is  no  study  so  interesting  or  beneficial  to  the 
student,  as  that  which  shows  how  nations  work  their 
way  from  poverty  and  the  smallest  possible  beginning, 
to  that  condition  of  independence,  intelligence,  wealth 
and  culture,  which  together  form  the  true  measure  of 
their  greatness. 


390 


A  Few  Facts. 


Ascending  from  the  level  of  mere  physical  existence 
and  the  daily  tug  and  toil  incident  to  it,  to  the  higher 
plane  of  thought,  feeling  and  enjoyment,  a  new  succes- 
sion of  ohjeets  is  presented  for  inspection.  Here  we 
enter  a  new  realm  in  which  leisure,  and  how  to  employ 
it  so  as  to  secure  to  each  the  largest  possible  share  of 
its  blessings,  are  to  be  taken  into  the  account— a  realm 
in  which  society,  and  our  relations  to  it  as  father,  hus- 
band and  friend,  are  conspicuous.  Here  home,  the 
place  above  all  others  that  plays  the  most  important 
part  among  highly  civilized  peoples,  comes  in  for  its 
share  of  attention.  In  this  domain  of  our  life,  art, 
science  and  amusements,  must  needs  be  considered 
and  brought  down  to  the  level  of  e very-day  existence, 
to  lighten  its  cares,  soften  its  asperities,  and  render  its 
burdens  less  grievous  to  be  borne. 

All  this  we  shall  need,  now  that  we  have  taken  our 
place  among  the  great  peoples  of  the  earth,  in  order 
that  we  may  not  suffer  in  the  comparisons  to  which  we 
shall  be  subjected  by  the  coming  chronicler  of  our 
deeds.  Then  too,  our  very  success  as  a  nation,  in  ac- 
quiring wealth,  has  induced  in  us,  as  we  have  been 
borne  along  on  the  prosperous  tide,  false  notions  of 
wealth,  its  uses,  and  its  real  value,  both  to  the  possessor 
and  the  nation.  The  manufacturer  who  supplies  the 
market  with  the  manufactured  article  wrought  from  the 
rough  material,  clamors  for  a  tariff,  while  he  who  sells 
the  article  cries  out  for  free  trade,  the  simple  truth  being, 
that  capital  should  be  so  used  that  no  class  shall  have 
a  monopoly  of  its  benefits.  So  too,  since  we  have 
touched  the  domain  of  political  economy,  we  should 
rid  ourselves  of  the  false  notions  that  a  great  destruc- 
tion of  property  can  take  place  without  any  real  loss 
to  the  country,  as  well  as  of  those  still  more  stupid 


A  Few  Facts.  397 

notions  that  personal  extravagance  is  the  life  of  trade, 
and  hence  to  be  encouraged,  and  that  a  promise  to  pay 
does  not  extinguish  the  debt  to  pay  for  which  the 
promise  is  made. 

So  too  with  legislation,  for  these  different  parts  of  a 
great  system  should  be  considered  as  indispensable 
parts  of  a  great  whole,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 
popular  notion  of  its  just  limits  are  altogether  confused 
and  ill-defined.  He  who  desires  nothing  so  much 
as  to  outstrip  all  others  in  the  contest  for  success,  de- 
mands the  special  legislation  that  will  place  the  odds 
to  his  credit,  while  he  who  desires  only  the  equal 
chance  with  all  others,  asks  for  nothing  beyond  the  gene- 
ral enactment. 

In  our  alms-o-ivine:,  the  same  defect  is  most  notice- 
able.  We  wear  out  our  lives  in  running  about  to  seek 
out  those  who  are  poor  from  shiftlessness,  forgetting 
when  we  relieve  their  necessities,  that  we  have  done 
just  so  much  toward  increasing  the  number  of  those 
who  will  live  without  work,  so  long  as  they  can  be  sup- 
ported in  idleness.  We  talk  glibly  of  political  corrup- 
tion and  demoralization,  complain  bitterly  that  the 
country  is  on  the  verge  of  ruin,  and  all  because  some 
man  of  wealth  has  purchased  political  honors  that  he 
would  not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  win  in  any  other 
way,  but  we  forget  that  for  much  of  this  corruption  we 
are  ourselves  responsible.  Shape  matters  as  we  may, 
the  demagogue  will  rule  so  long  as  a  constituency  can 
be  found  to  elect  the  demagogue  to  office,and  when  it  has 
deliberately  done  this,  what  need  of  putting  its  lingers  in 
its  ears  and  whimpering  over  its  own  follies?  What 
society  needs  is  to  do  something  toward  reforming  the 
individual,  for  the  individual  cannot  undertake  to  re- 
form the  world,  and  when  this  action  and  reaction 


393 


A  Ft  w  Facts, 


goes  on  long  enough,  and  all  begin  to  see  and  feel  the 
need  of  better  men  for  office,  we  shall  have  better  men 
for  office,  and  the  loud-mouthed  demagogue  will  slip 
down  and  out  of  the  places  of  which  he  and  his  kin  to- 
day hold  a  monopoly.  So  long  as  the  indifference  of 
the  people  permits  individuals  and  lobbies  to  mould, 
suggest,  and  control  legislation  for  their  own  ends  and 
purposes,  at  the  expense  of  the  people,  so  long  will  the 
true  interests  of  the  whole  be  sacrificed  to  those  of  the 
few. 

That  wealth  should  be  watched  with  a  sharp  eye  for 
the  purpose  of  guiding  it  into  proper  channels  for  the 
benefit  of  the  whole,  is  certain,  for  when  the  machinery 
of  a  nation  goes  to  sleep  for  want  of  employment, 
capital  through  monied  corporations  will  step  into  its 
place,  and  seek  to  aggrandize  itself.  The  capitalist  to- 
day holds  in  many  senses  the  balance  of  power.  The 
railroads,  the  banks,  the  big  enterprises  of  the  country, 
the  politicians  and  the  law-makers  are  largely  his 
creatures,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  wealth  hence 
should  be  destroyed,  it  needs  only  to  be  held  in  check, 
and  held  responsible  for  the  evils  that  corne  as  the  re- 
sults of  its  illegitimate  use. 

The  social  life  of  every  civilized  people  reveals  a  con- 
stant struggle  going  on  for  the  bettering  of  man's  social 
condition,  an  ever-present  yearning  for  a  higher  and 
better  life.  Our  own  development  as  a  nation  has 
followed  the  practical  so  closely,  that  in  our  overween- 
ing desire  for  material  success,  we  have  thrust  aside  as 
matters  difficult  of  adjustment  much  that  we  now  find 
to  be  essential  to  a  true  enjoyment  of  the  wealth  we 
have,  or  supposed  we  had  accumulated.  Princely  in 
our  getting,  we  have  been  equally  profuse  in  spending, 
making  no  provision  the  slightest,  through  a  prudent 


A  Few  Facts. 


299 


economy,  for  the  rainy  clay  that  was  sure  to  come  at 
•no  distant  period.  First  came  the  war,  and  the  nation, 
in  a  moment  of  inspiration  of  supreme  energy,  bonded 
the  chasm,  and  so  put  far  away,  as  it  is  supposed,  the 
evil  day  when  payment  would  be  demanded.  Elated 
by  the  temporary  success  of  our  financial  legerdemain, 
it  plunged  even  into  fresh  extravagances  of  living,  new 
enterprises  sprung  up  in  all  directions  with  a  rapidity 
thac  frightened  the  timid  few,  opening  to  the  reckless 
many  new  fields  of  speculation,  into  which  all  rushed 
without  regard  to  the  evils  that  were  sure  to  come. 
Enterprise  after  enterprise,  based  upon  promises  never 
to  be  fulfilled,  followed  each  other  in  fearful  succession. 
Instead  of  making  an  effort  to  pay  our  debts,  we  ex- 
erted our  utmost  to  contract  new  ones  in  the  vain  be- 
lief that  superior  energy  and  pluck  would  somehow 
carry  us  through  without  reference  to  the  barriers  that 
nature  has  erected  against  man's  follies  and  reck- 
lessness. 

For  a  brief  time  we  sailed  grandly  upon  our  summer 
sea  of  financial  glory,  but  our  high-blown  pride  at  last 
broke  under  us,  and  we  woke  up  one  morning  to  the 
full  discovery  that  we  had  at  last  touched  bottom.  To 
enumerate  the  enterprises,  social,  financial,  commercial 
and  speculative,  that  vanished  into  thin  air  on  that 
memorable  morning,  would  be  to  repeat  the  story  of  a 
series  of  blunders  and  follies  unparalleled.  A  thou- 
sand schemes  that  had  never  a  leg  to  stand  on,  crum- 
bled in  an  instant  to  ashes,  leaving  their  originators  to 
the  sad  alternative  of  contemplating  their  own  folly. 
The  nation  still  stands  in  this  attitude,  crouching  as 
it  were/  over  the  dead  embers  of  the  past.  But  we 
are  coming  rapidly  to  the  lucid  interval  that  will 
show  us  with  appalling  certainty  its  mistakes.  Wo 


400 


A  Few  Facts. 


shall  know  for  once,  at  least,  that  in  the  management 
of  this  world's  affairs  there  are  certain  laws  that  can- 
not be  set  aside,  certain  immutable  principles  that  can- 
not be  ignored,  and  that  to  ignore  them  must  sooner 
or  later  lead  to  disaster  or  irretrievable  ruin. 

Oar  financial  follies,  running  through  fifteen  years, 
with  their  attendant  clogs  upon  progress  in  all  direc- 
tions, have  rendered  it  necessary  for  us  to  go  back  to 
first  principles  of  finance  and  to  conform  all  else  to  the 
new  order  of  things.  If  we  have  the  courage  to  do 
this,  keeping  in  view  the  fact  that  all  real  progress 
must  come  as  the  result  of  a  willing  obedience  to  just 
laws,  the  outgrowth  of  the  nation's  intelligence,  the 
lesson,  terrible  though  it  be,  will  not  have  been  learned 
in  vain,  and  a  new  career  of  prosperity,  with  financial 
soundness  for  its  basis,  will  again  be  opened  alike  to 
new-born  energies  and  honorable  ambition. 


FINIS. 


V 


0 


it  yooq  pduvo\  v  jcjaox^ 
s\\vcn  oc\cn  m\(\  }  SdiuoD  fwicf?  jafl^,, 
pws  udd(\  svl[  \\  dsnvodg 
yooq  st(\\  davd\  dsvd\(\  'davd\  noi  tocj.ft 


isdna  tinoiAiABS 


